Descent
by ZaKai
Summary: Ed gets Al's body back, but finds himself frustrated and depressed. As the country faces the threat of civil war, will Ed be able to handle life without Alphonse constantly by his side, or will he simply substitute one companion for another? RoyEd AlWin
1. Awakenings

**Title:** Descent  
**Rating:** M  
**Reference:** First FMA Anime. A few things and people have been pulled from the manga here and there.  
**Type:** Angst, Divergence (splits off from episode 32), Drama, Romance, Mystery, Political, Yaoi, Het, etc.  
**Pairings:** Roy/Ed, Al/Winry, (other minor pairings)  
**Warnings:** Language, Sex, Violence, etc.  
**Summary:** After getting Al's body back, Ed finds that life after reaching his goal wasn't what he expected. As the country faces the threat of civil war, will Ed be able to handle life without Alphonse constantly by his side, or will he simply substitute one companion for another?

**A/N – ****PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE BEGINNING THE STORY OR YOU MAY BE CONFUSED AS TO WHAT IS GOING ON.** - This story takes place after Al gets his body back. It does not, however, follow the storyline in the later part of the series. This story splits off from the series in episode 32 after Al and Ed fight with wrath on the island. Things are different in this story after that point.

Ed and Al do visit Dante but the visit is uneventful and so is the rest of their visit with Izumi. They look for Scar (you'll remember that they were originally going to go find Scar before they were found by Izumi) but are unable to locate him, so the search for the stone continued.

By the time Ed an Al reach the ages of seventeen and sixteen, Scar is still killing State Alchemists, all the homunculi are still at large (Pride and Sloth are still unknown by anyone other than the other homunculi) and Ed and Al have found a way, independent of the stone, to get Al's body back. The two teenagers were found, unconscious and taken to Central City's military hospital. That is where this story begins.  
-

**Descent **

_n._

Progress downward, as in station, virtue, and the like, from a higher to a lower state, from the more, to the less important,

from the better…

to the worse…  
-

**Descent**

**Chapter One**

**Awakenings **

-  
A beeping sound and hushed murmurs brought him slowly into awareness. He was lying down, in a bed it seemed. Covers were drawn up under his arms and over his chest. The air in the room was cool, but not so much as to be unpleasant. He wanted to sink back into the dark oblivion from which his mind had just emerged, but the beeping and the murmuring, which he couldn't quite make out, kept him from doing so.

With an effort he opened his eyes, and blinked a couple of times. It wasn't bright; in fact it seemed the only light in the room came from a small source behind him… a lamp perhaps? No, he blinked because the world was blurry in his vision and blinking was the only thing he could think of to help the situation. As his eyes began to clear, he started to make out the lines and little dots that marred the off white ceiling.

A touch on his arm made him aware that the murmuring had disappeared and only the beeping remained. Slowly, he slid his gaze to his left and military blue filled his view. His eyes traveled up the well made uniform and settled on dark, worried eyes.

"How are you feeling, Edward(1)?" the man beside him asked in a whisper.

_Edward?_ he thought vaguely.

It took him a moment to associate the name with himself, but it seemed right, so his mind moved on to the question. How did he feel? After a moment of contemplation he realized he felt tired. Oh, he felt sore too, but foremost he felt tired. He thought perhaps he should open his mouth to say so, but nothing happened. The truth was that he was having a hard enough time keeping his eyes open.

The man's mouth turned down into a slight frown, lips pressing slightly, and his eyebrows crinkled a bit, slightly moving a few strands of the black hair that rested lightly against his forehead. Edward blinked, once… twice… as his vision started to get blurry once again, making it difficult to continue keeping the man in focus. The touch on his arm had moved into a soft rubbing motion. It was comforting… the touch of another. He let his eyes close completely.

"What am I thinking… what the _hell_ am I thinking..."

The soft words uttered by the man traveled with him as he began his slow descent back into darkness.

* * *

Al stuffed another bite of the hospital cafeteria's unidentifiable breaded meat patty in his mouth, earning him a look of disgust from his table companion. According to Winry, eating metal shavings tasted better than what the hospital cafeteria served. Al figured she must be over exaggerating. He didn't really think she would eat metal shavings. He stopped chewing for a moment and gazed at her.

At least… he didn't think…

"What?" Winry asked curiously, seeing the look on his face.

Al shook his head and began chewing again. He was being stupid, he thought with a grin. That was just his old friend exaggerating. He nodded to himself and turned his attention back to his food.

It really was great to eat again. Even the mystery meat on his plate couldn't lessen the wonders of it all. The complex tastes on his tongue; sweet, sour, bitter, salty, they all came to him in a rush that still overwhelmed him at times. The first meal he had eaten since getting his body back had been ecstasy. He had started crying and Winry had asked about it, but what could he say? That the soup resembling pond water was so tasty that he couldn't contain his emotions?

Of course that wasn't the whole truth.

It was the wonders of being able to use the senses he had been denied over the past six years that had brought the tears. Winry would have understood, Al was sure of it, but he couldn't put it into words. Nothing seemed right.

He fidgeted in his seat, feeling the hard chair beneath him, and a delighted smile came to his lips. Such simple things, but such wonderful things; the chair, the fork in his hand, the clothing on his body, the soft socks and the hard shoes that encased his feet, the cool air of the hospital on his exposed skin…

Then there was the smell of the food cooking in the kitchen, the smell of the people sitting in the cafeteria. Some of the people smelled of sweat or perfume. There was also the smell of the hospital, the smell of the sick and the smell of sanitizer, the smell of his meal and of Winry's tea. Or even his own smell; the smell of lye soap and the powder that Alicia Hughes had spilled on him that morning.

It was all so wonderful, but frightening at the same time. Al was grateful that he had been able to see and hear when his soul had been attached to the armor. Not only because he had use of those abilities during that time, but also because regaining three senses at once was overwhelming, but all five at once… he couldn't even imagine it…

He looked up at Winry for a moment, watching her as she sipped at her tea. She had been the first person he saw when he woke up… when he realized his older brother had succeeded in getting his body back.

He remembered waking, feeling the soreness that seemed to overpower him. It was all so strange… so foreign… all of it. The feel of the air, the smell of the hospital, the bad 'morning' taste in his mouth, the hospital clothes, the bed beneath him, the sheets and blanket above, the feel of the IV needle piercing his arm, the sound of the life support machine beeping behind him… He remembered turning his head and seeing Winry's back facing him as she sat near Ed's bed.

Al wondered, as he speared one of the broccoli pieces, if Winry had ever sat near _his_ bed during the weeks he had been unconscious.

_Maybe_… he thought hopefully, then frowned.

_Probably not_…

But since the time he had woken, Winry spent an increasing amount with him. He smiled at that thought, but almost immediately shook a finger at himself mentally. He _did_ feel bad for Ed that Winry spent less time near his bed now… Not that his brother was aware of the change. He was asleep after all, and Al was awake… he was sure Ed wouldn't want him to be lonely… Plus they had both been in the same room, after all. If Ed had woken, Winry would have known immediately.

Winry _would have_ known immediately…

Al frowned at the almost empty plate. That had been when he was staying at the hospital. He had been discharged almost a week ago now. Even so, he still spent most of his time at the hospital during his waking hours. Mrs. Hughes had been kind enough to let Al and Winry stay at her house when they weren't at the hospital. Such a nice woman… Mrs. Hughes… and Al had bonded almost immediately with Alicia; the girl hadn't recognized Al, having never seen him not as armor.

He began pushing the food around with his fork.

Ed still slept though...

The doctors were unsure when or if his older brother would wake. Also, Ed still wasn't whole. The automail limbs still remained.

It didn't seem fair…

A hand on his arm made him look up. Winry smiled a small smile and said, "He'll be okay. Don't worry, Al. He will."

He nodded. How did she do that? How did she seem to know what he was thinking sometimes? He guessed it was some sort of woman thing. Mrs. Hughes seemed to be able to do that too… and his mother… Al shook his head. He didn't want his thoughts to go in that direction right now.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Al asked.

Winry shook her head making her blonde hair swish against her neck. "No way! I'll wait for Mrs. Hughes's cooking." She grinned. "But you should go ahead and eat more here, that way there will be enough dinner for the rest of us tonight!"

They both laughed at that.

The first time Al had looked in a mirror, he had been shocked to see the face looking back at him. His body had matured from the ten year old body he had lost into a sixteen year old one. In a way, he was grateful. After all, his mind had matured in that suit of armor, it would be a bit inconvenient to be stuck in such a young body.

On the other hand, he had missed some of the things associated with growing into a man. Not that it was that big of a deal, in fact it seemed a stupid thing to be sad about, but he wouldn't have the complete puberty experience. Oh it's not like he missed everything, but there would be no voice fluctuations for him. His voice had already deepened. Also, Al had grown in height; taller than Lieutenant Hawkeye; shorter than Colonel Mustang and it seemed he might not be done growing either. It had been bound to happen. He had already been surpassing Ed in height before the fateful transmutation six years ago…

His older brother was not going to be pleased about that.

Being in a sixteen-year-old body did have its drawbacks though. One of which was that he always seemed to be hungry. Not that he minded. He had missed eating. Once, Winry had pronounced the unfairness of it all that Al could eat so much and not gain any weight.

Al was just about to make a reply to Winry's teasing jab about his appetite when Lieutenant Hawkeye approached their table at a brisk pace. Winry looked as if she were about to say something to the lieutenant when she held up her hand.

"The colonel sent me to collect you." Al sat up straight, and his heart began to pound in his chest as fear and hope filled him. Her face softened slightly and she said, "Your brother has awakened."

* * *

Winry folded her arms beneath her breasts and glared at the dark-haired man before her. It was so unfair! Al was near Ed almost every hour of every day and the only one who got to be there when he woke up was one of her least favorite people. Well, and Lieutenant Hawkeye... At least Colonel Mustang had the decency to send her to fetch them as soon as they had realized Ed had woken.

"Did he say anything?" Al asked anxiously.

The colonel shook his head with a look of regret. "I'm sorry, Alphonse. He just looked at me then fell back asleep."

Al's eager face fell in disappointment. "Oh…"

"Don't worry. I've already spoken with one of the doctors and she said now that Fullmetal has woken once, he'll wake again. He's recovering. Take comfort in that."

Al nodded and looked at his brother with a sad, forlorn expression. Winry felt compassion well up within her. The taller of the two Elrics looked exhausted. He would spend even his sleeping hours with Ed if the hospital would allow him to stay overnight. Night time visits were permissible, but not overnight stays.

The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention and she turned to see the colonel place his hat on his head. "Well, I have other business to attend to," he said briskly

Al nodded absently. It didn't really matter to him if anyone from the military visited Ed or not. In fact, Winry had a suspicion that Al would have preferred it if military personnel didn't visit at all. He often voiced the hope that Ed would turn in his resignation after he recovered. Never 'if' he recovered. No, not with Al. It was always, '_When_ Ed recovered'.

Colonel Mustang briefly rested a hand on Al's shoulder as he walked past the taller of the two Elrics, then made his way to the door.

"Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Hawkeye said nothing, only followed the man out the door.

* * *

"...don't know if I'm going to play against her anymore. I think she cheats. I _think_ so anyway. I'm not sure… Now if I was playing against you I'd _know_ for sure that I was being cheated... but I'll still play against you, even if you can't play fair... when you wake up..."

Al fell silent as he stared at his brother, still lying unconscious on the hospital bed. It had been four days since the colonel said that Ed had woken, and for four long days Al had sat by Ed's bed, hoping against hope that his brother would wake again.

He sighed, leaned forward in his chair, put his arms on the bed beside Ed, and rested his head on his arms. Soon it would be time to go back to the Hughes's house for the night. Winry had left the hospital early to fix a few things for Mrs. Hughes in return for her generosity, but she would come back soon to get him for dinner.

Al felt a slight movement beside him and for a moment his breath caught. Perhaps he had just _thought_ he had felt movement... Hesitantly, Al lifted his head and felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over him as his eyes fixed onto Ed's golden ones. For a few moments the two just stared at each other. Al at a loss for what to say, Ed seemingly confused...

_He doesn't know who I am!_ Al realized in an instant.

"Brother(2)... It's me... Alphonse..."

Ed just stared dumbly at him for a moment. Then his eyes widened, and began to search Al's face in wonder and relief. "Al...?" he croaked.

Al grinned and nodded. "My body must have aged in The Gate, brother. That's why I look older," he explained, watching as his brother's lips curved up into a smile.

"It worked..." Ed whispered hoarsely. Al could see tears form in his brother's eyes.

Ed reached up with his right arm to touch Al's face and the smile vanished as his eyes rested on the cool metal surface of the automail; the dim light from the small lamp behind the bed causing it to reflect a dull shine.

Al watched the changes in his brother's face. He felt a pressure in his chest and felt the urge to cry, but didn't. "I don't know why you didn't get your arm and leg back brother..." his voice trailed off. The words didn't sound right. They sounded lame and inadequate. He just didn't know what to say.

Still looking at his upraised arm Ed said, "Al…" Suddenly, a fit of coughing struck and he broke off what he was about to say.

"Let me get you some water, brother. You're just not used to talking." Al got up to fetch a cup of water and said over his shoulder, "You've been asleep for weeks."

He left the room and asked one of the orderlies, an older lady with a kind disposition, for a cup of water. She told Al to stay where he was and she would be back in a moment.

Al sighed and looked at the door. He didn't know what to say... Why hadn't his brother gotten his limbs back? He felt guilty that he should be whole while Ed wasn't, but Al didn't know how to help. Truthfully, Al couldn't remember how he had gotten his body back.

He remembered his brother's solemness, a solemness that had lasted for weeks. Ed hadn't been unpleasant to be around during that time, but he had seemed... withdrawn... depressed... and then there was the night that Ed had come to him and said that he thought he knew how he could get Al his body back.

He had seemed... resigned...

Ed hadn't explained to Al what he was going to do; he had said that he'd tell him later. He remembered Ed taking him to an abandoned building, but after that... the memories disappear... He supposed he could ask Ed about it, but now wasn't the right time, and besides... Al had a heavy feeling in his heart that he wasn't really sure he wanted to know...

The orderly returned with the water and Al politely thanked her. As he reentered the room, Al noticed that Ed was still laying where he had left him, eyes staring at the ceiling, the automail arm resting on the mattress, fist clenched. Al looked down at his brother and felt a pang in his heart when he saw wet streaks from Ed's eyes down his cheeks.

"Brother..." was all Al could say as he helped lift Ed's head to a position where he could drink some of the water.

"Al..." Ed began again when his head rested on the pillow again. "It's not fair... I'm so happy you have your body back... You don't know how much but... I..."

"I know, brother," Al replied. He felt the same way. It just wasn't fair that he had his body back and Ed didn't. He frowned as another tear slid down Ed's cheek.

"It's just not fair..." Ed repeated softly.

Al laid a hand on Ed's leg, trying to convey how much he cared for his brother, trying to comfort him. He could feel his brother shaking beneath his touch and opened his mouth to say something when a sob burst from Ed.

"Dammit Al!" Ed exclaimed suddenly, slamming his flesh and blood fist into the mattress to punctuate his words. "It's not fair! It's just not fair! You've got to be at _least_ five fucking inches taller than me now! It's just not fair!"

* * *

**1** – In the English version, Mustang does call Ed by his name every once in a while. I don't think this is true of the Japanese version thought. However, in this respect I'm going to follow the English version.

**2** – You'll notice I don't have Al calling Ed "Nii-San", but "Brother". If I were writing this in Japanese I would use the term (which in reality should be translated into "older brother", 'otouto' is 'younger brother' but older siblings in Japan generally just use the younger sibling's name, etc. I'm not going to go into the dynamics of it all…) but I'm not. Ed and Al are not Japanese and therefore will not start spouting out Japanese words such as nii-san, baka, etc., in this story.


	2. Jealousy

**Descent**

**Chapter Two**

**Jealousy**

"A month of leave?"

Ed nodded curtly when Colonel Mustang repeated his request. The frown that was already prominent on his face deepened when the black haired man raised an eyebrow and flatly repeated, "You want a month of leave?"

Ed exhaled in sharp irritation. "What the hell are you? A fucking parrot?"

Mouth quirking into a small smile of amusement, Mustang leaned back in his chair and quietly studied the short alchemist over the tips of steepled fingers for a few minutes before saying, "Not exactly the words an_ inferior_ officer uses with a _superior_ officer when asking a favor; especially when he's been lounging around doing nothing for the past few months."

"Fuck you," Ed retorted sharply, then muttered, "I wouldn't exactly call being in the hospital lounging…" He was not in a good mood and had no desire to banter with the conceited man sitting behind the sleek mahogany desk.

The first couple of days after waking had been pretty good for Ed, despite the pain and the disappointment of still needing automail. It was great to have Al whole and in the flesh again. To see him smile; see him laugh. It was fun to see all of his brother small body language quirks. They brought nostalgic feelings to Ed, remembering how Al used to do the same things as a child. It was amusing to see how Al enjoyed every meal, every smell, and every touch.

They'd spent a lot of time together, while he was forced to stay in bed, playing games and talking of what they would do once Ed was released from the hospital.

Winry was there too.

It seemed to Ed that she was almost always there and at first it was alright. She was a friend and of course it was great to see her, when she wasn't nagging at him... However, as the days dragged on Ed longed to have more one on one time with his brother. There were just some things he didn't want to talk about with Winry there, but he couldn't seem to get her to go away and Al was no help in that either.

Ed was noticing, and becoming more and more irritated by it, that Al seemed to act... differently... around Winry... seemed to pay more attention to her than him. Not that he was jealous... he wasn't... it was just...

"Fullmetal?" Ed looked up at the colonel, and felt frustrated at having let his mind wonder. "No more obscenities."

"Shut up. You're not my father," Ed grumbled.

"You're right. I'm not. If I was, I would put you over my knee and give you a well deserved spanking."

Ed glared at his commanding officer for a second before letting his face split into an evil grin. "I didn't know you were into kinky stuff like that..." he let his sentence trail off and enjoyed the look Mustang gave him. There wasn't much of an outward show, but Ed saw the signs of surprise, a pause in the man's body language, a small flicker in the eyes... a faint redness in the colonel's cheeks...?

_That_ made Ed wonder if he had hit on something...

Mustang dropped his hands from the steepled position, leaned forward, put his hands on his desk, and opened his mouth to speak when the door opened. Both alchemists looked toward it and saw Lieutenant Hawkeye walk through the door with a stack of papers.

Ed returned his gaze to Mustang and saw no hint of a blush on the man's cheeks. _Perhaps I imagined it,_ he thought.

"Sir, I was asked to drop these off to you," she said briskly, crossing the office to the desk. The man looked decidedly unhappy about the fresh load of work being delivered to him. Hawkeye placed the papers neatly in the middle of Mustang's desk, turned around, and headed back toward the door. Without stopping, she said, "It's good to see you're feeling better Edward." And with that, she was gone.

Ed kept his eyes on the door for a moment, then turned his attention back to the man behind the desk when he heard, "You're right, Fullmetal. I'm not your father. I'm your commanding officer, and I am commanding you to refrain from using obstinacies in my presence."

_Yeah right, _Ed thought. _Like that's going to happen._

"What are you going to do? Kick me out of the military?" he asked snidely. He had a pretty good idea that Mustang knew Ed had every intention of leaving the military after he used up all his vacation leave. If he didn't use it, he'd lose it and there was no way in hell he was going to let that go to waste. It was like throwing away free money.

Mustang put a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Fullmetal," the colonel began, then stopped for a moment before going on. "Have you given _any_ thought to your future? You have your brother's body back. Now what? Neither of you formally finished any schooling. Here you have a job and some seniority as a State Alchemist. You're a talented alchemist. If you really put your mind to it, you could easily climb the ranks." A pause, then, "I could help make it happen."

Ed snorted. "I'm not interested in the military. The only reason I joined was to help Al... and myself if I could... I don't care about being a high ranking officer and no way do I have any interest in being one of your cronies. Al and I have alchemy and we have each other. That's all that matters!" Ed stopped and realized he had been yelling. His breathing was rough and ragged.

_Of course we have each other... I'm not jealous... I'm not... Things will be different when we get to Rizembool... _he thought.

Ed didn't know how long Mustang stared at him, considering, but it was a long, uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, he spoke; his voice was low and serious. "Grow up, Fullmetal. Unless they changed the legal adult age to something higher than sixteen(1) without me knowing, you are no longer a child. At seventeen, you're an adult. You need to act like one. I'm going to grant your request, but I want you to think about what it _means_ to be an adult while you're gone," the colonel finished speaking and the two sat looking at one another.

A flat gaze from Mustang.

A glare from Ed.

The air in the office was heavy and the silence seemed to punctuate the tension. Finally, Mustang took his eyes from Ed and began scribbling on a piece of paper. When he finished, the colonel stood, picked up the paper and walked to the couch where Ed was sitting.

Ed stood quickly and made a grab for the written permission. Mustang moved it out of his reach and said, "I expect to see you back here in four weeks."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Why? It's not like I have to submit my resignation papers in person."

"That's true, but I would like you to do that anyway."

Ed made no reply and made another grab for the paper. Again, Mustang, who was much taller, moved it out of Ed's reach. He glared, then growled, "Fine! Whatever! Four weeks! Just give me the damn paper!"

With Ed's agreement, Mustang relinquished the document without a word. Ed scanned over the paper to make sure everything was in order, and grunted when he saw that it was. When he looked up, his commanding officer had moved away from him and was half sitting on his desk watching Ed with an unreadable look.

Ed bowed slightly (2), giving the colonel the minimal amount of respect required, stalked to the door, opened it, but stopped when Mustang spoke.

"Oh, and Fullmetal, while you're at it, try to grow a bit taller while your gone too."

Ed felt the anger that he had been holding inside escalate into full fury. Stepping across the threshold, he grabbed the doorknob with his automail hand and pulled the door shut so aggressively that the doorknob broke away from the heavy wooden door. The sound of something breaking in the office met his ears a second later. Glaring, Ed dropped the brass knob on the floor and made his way down the hallway.

* * *

Roy Mustang kept his eyes on the door long after his blond subordinate's belligerent exit. Shards of glass from a frame that had been hanging on the wall lay scattered across the floor near the door. The photo had been unlucky enough to hit the filing cabinet on its way down.

He sighed and looked at the stack of papers near his hand on the desk. Although unhappy about the new pile of work, he was truly grateful to Hawkeye for coming into the room when she did. If he didn't know better, he'd think she had bugged his office and listened in until it was the opportune time to interrupt. He chuckled to himself at the absurdness of the notion, then frowned.

_Spanking indeed! _he thought.

The impertinent little punk was generally rude, and usually had no manners to speak of, but this was the first time he had ever heard crudity from him, even if it was only implied. Roy shook his head. He didn't really see how spanking was that kinky, but he supposed it would seem so to a boy with no experience. Truthfully, he really wasn't into spanking anyway. That never really did much for him, but he was sure he could...

He stopped that train of thought with an effort. He was a military officer. Elric was his subordinate. Then there was the age difference… Seventeen was just too young for him, Roy told himself. And, of course, he didn't know if Ed would even consider a relationship with another male, let alone him...

Roy sighed and ran his fingers through his fine black hair. There were very few people who knew of his preference, and he tried to keep it that way by dating as many women as he could get his hands on.

Maes Hughes had known, before he'd died. Of course he had. They had grown up together. Hell, they had experimented together as boys. But then, Maes had decided it wasn't for him. He liked the ladies too much. Thankfully, they had remained the best of friends.

Roy let his lips curve into a small smile for a moment as he thought about all the times Maes had taunted him; always telling him to get a wife. Everyone seemed to think the joke made reference to him being a playboy among the ladies, but he knew better.

So did Maes.

The smile slipped from his face. _Maes you bastard... You son of a bitch, how dare you die on me like that? _

He missed his childhood friend, his best friend. Maes always seemed to know just what was going on with Roy Mustang. Maes had even known of his... what? Fascination... preoccupation... obsession... whatever you wanted to call it, with Edward Elric.

Once Maes had caught him staring at Fullmetal, and had murmured, "Do you know what the prison time is for statutory rape?"

At the time, Roy had glared at Maes in irritation and disbelief. Roy didn't need the warning. He wasn't stupid. He had his career to think about, and plus what did Maes think he was? Some sort of perverted pedophile? He wasn't about to prey on some naïve twelve-year-old no matter how much he was fascinated by him.

Only…

Edward Elric wasn't a twelve-year-old child anymore. He was seventeen. A year past the legal age of adulthood...

Roy sighed and asked himself, not for the first time. "What the hell am I thinking?"

* * *

Alphonse Elric stared out of the open train window. He loved the feel of the wind blowing on his face. The weather outside was rainy and on the cool side, though not cool enough to be uncomfortable. It was great to be able to feel the air blowing his hair back, even though little rain droplets smacked him in the face. He shut his eyes, relishing every moment of it.

"Al shut the window."

Al opened his eyes and looked at his brother sitting on the seat in front of him. Ed had his arms folded across his chest in a way that pulled his long red coat closed tightly around him. Golden eyes stared at him in blatant irritation.

Al frowned. It had been close to four weeks since Ed had woken, and since that time his brother's temper had become increasingly worse. Al had begun picturing the blond alchemist with a little black rain cloud over his head to keep himself in good spirits. He hated arguing with Ed, but they seemed to be doing that more often than not.

"Why?" Al asked. He really didn't want to shut the window.

"Because it's a fucking icicle in here!" A few heads turned and Al's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Why couldn't Ed be a little more low key?

Al let out a frustrated breath of air. It really wasn't that cold, and he wasn't the only person with their window open. Besides he was wearing blue jeans and a white, long sleeved, button up shirt, while Ed was decked out in his usual long black pants, long-sleeved shirt and long red coat. _Ed_ shouldn't be cold if _he_ wasn't.

"It's really not that cold, Ed," Winry spoke up. Al's spirits rose a bit at that. He was glad that Winry would take his side, especially when she was wearing less than he was.

Ed's eyes turned to slits when he looked at Winry, but he didn't say anything to her. Instead, he looked back at Al. "Just shut the damn window, Al."

Al folded his arms across his chest and stared fixedly at his brother. Ed always tried to boss him around... Feeling particularly exasperated with Ed's recent mood swings, Al said stubbornly, "No. I won't!"

Ed's eyes flashed with rage. He looked quickly to Winry then back to Al. For a moment the two brothers sat starting at each other, then Ed unfolded his arms and stood up. Al understood what Ed meant to do almost instantly and quickly put his hands on his side of the sliding window pane to keep it from moving when Ed pushed on the other side.

The glass moved slightly toward Al. He grunted and pushed harder. As armor, Al had been a lot stronger than he was now, and even though he was taller than Ed in the flesh, Ed was stronger, having the benefit of six years of physical training behind him while Al's body had been in The Gate, and the automail added to that strength.

Again the window pane inched toward him.

* * *

Winry looked back and forth between her two childhood friends as they fought over the window. It was obvious that Al was losing. He just wasn't strong enough.

"Come on guys..." Winry pleaded, but they ignored her.

She felt helpless to stop what was happening, but she wanted to help in some way. Biting her lip, she thought for a moment then said loudly, "Al, it _is_ kind of cold in here, would it be alright if we shut the window?"

The two boys stopped and looked at her with twin unreadable expressions. Finally, Al pressed his lips together, reached over to Ed's side of the window, pulled the glass pane closed, then sat down without a word. Her gaze went to Ed and she saw him looking from Al to her to Al then back to her in unmistakable anger. Then without warning, he stormed off.

Winry gritted her teeth together. "What is his _problem_!" she said loudly. It was as if the older of the Elric brothers had developed some sort of permanent male PMS or something. Part of her felt angry at Ed for being so rude and selfish, another part of her felt sad for him and she wanted to go find him; maybe she could say something that would help... After all, Ed and Al were brothers... They sometimes fought, but not like this, and not as often as they had been. They should be laughing with each other, not yelling at one another.

Winry looked at Al who was now staring fixedly out the closed window. She sighed and her eyebrows knit together in worry. In the faint reflection of the window Winry could see a tear trickle down Al's cheek.

"Thanks for shutting the window..." she said hesitantly.

For a moment there was no response, then he said, "If you wanted the window closed you should have just said so before."

"I really didn't care if the window was open or not, but I..." she felt tears well up in her own eyes and turned her head away. "I just didn't want anyone to get hurt..."

To this, there was no response.

* * *

1- I have no idea what the age for adulthood is in FMA, so I've used 16 for my own purposes.

2- Ed bows to Mustang in the series when making to leave his office after he's made his report about Lior in episode 13.


	3. The Organization

**Descent**

**Chapter Three**

**The Organization**

In a conference room at the military headquarters in Central, Colonel Roy Mustang sat at the head of a long table, one hand on a folder and looking at the steel rimmed clock hanging on the far wall.

1:14

He began drumming his fingers. The meeting had been set to begin at 1:00. Roy supposed he could have started, but he didn't want to have to repeat himself. He looked, one by one, at those already seated, going intently through the folders he had given them, at the sturdy, oak table.

On his left, tall, graying and serious as stone sat Warrant Officer(1)Vato Falman; a good man and a good soldier, but one with little imagination and a sense of humor that was dry but well meaning.

Next to Falman sat Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. Short, with short dark hair and large, round frame glasses, Fuery looked more like a target for bullies on a playground than a soldier, let alone an officer. Fuery had been assigned to Roy when he had been moved to East Headquarters. It had been a lucky strike to find such an intelligent, loyal soldier to add to his core group.

At the far end of the table, red haired Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda sat with his elbows on the table and his hands up, supporting his head as he read the contents of the papers before him. One of the best strategists Roy had ever met, Breda had a fearless nature about him… except when it came to small furry animals.

On Roy's right sat First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, as beautiful as she was loyal. Despite her tendency to be sober minded, he couldn't have asked for a better right hand lady. She had a commanding nature and remarkable marksmanship with just about any gun that was placed in her hands. He'd also known her for many years, and thought of her as a friend outside of work. Finally his eyes rested on the chair that sat between Hawkeye and Breda.

It was empty.

Roy was about to tell someone to go find Jean Havoc, when the door opened and his other second lieutenant walked in the room, quickly closing the door behind him. Havoc stalked moodily to the empty chair and gave Roy a baleful look as he took his seat.

Roy kept his face neutral and acted as though he was oblivious to the man's look, but truthfully he was fully aware of it and why he was receiving it. Jean Havoc didn't know how to stay away from the ladies, and, in turn, the ladies didn't seem to know how to stay away from Roy Mustang. For some reason Roy couldn't explain, he derived a sadistic pleasure from going out with anyone that Havoc was interested in.

He had a feeling that if Havoc had any idea that Roy did it on purpose… well… He didn't though and that made all the difference. A stray thought entered his head and he wondered, not for the first time since meeting the man, if his chain smoking second lieutenant was any good in bed. He pushed the thought out of his mind immediately. Roy had no doubt that making a move on Havoc would probably be the biggest mistake of his career, or his life for that matter… Roy couldn't decide which was more important to him. Besides… if he were going to take a chance and make a move on someone it wouldn't be Havoc.

He sighed.

How long had Fullmetal been gone? One week? Yes, it had been about one week. He supposed he'd better get used to it. Roy had no doubts that Ed meant to turn in his resignation papers as soon as his vacation leave was completely used. Well, at least he had gotten an agreement from the annoying cuss to submit his resignation in person. At least he could see him one last time…

"Colonel?"

Hawkeye's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he straightened in his chair. "Nice of you to finally join us," Roy said, giving the new arrival a stare that spoke volumes of his displeasure at having to wait. Havoc shrugged as he flipped open the folder that had been lying in front of the previously vacant chair, and Roy got the impression the man had been late on purpose.

_Well, I guess I deserve it_, he thought to himself.

Roy let his eyes sweep across those at the table again and this time they were all looking in his direction. He cleared his throat and opened the folder in front of him. There really was no need for him to do it, he had read through the documents and seen the pictures so many times he knew them by heart.

"You all know the situation with those who are calling themselves The Organization. It's common knowledge that…" Roy gave the summary, almost on auto pilot.

Unbeknownst to the public and most in the military, at least until six months ago, a secret group was working to usurp the authority of the military and thus the government, given that the current government was controlled by the military itself.

When The Organization decided to go public it did so by destroying a major train station used extensively by the military, killing thirteen solders and injuring many more. The Organization also officially laid claim to several unsolved assassinations and terrorist cases that had been haunting the archives for some time.

Unfortunately, the lines of communication being used between the military and The Organization unveiled no real information on exactly _who_ was in The Organization.

Over the last few months, knowledge of the group became common knowledge both among the military and the public, but what Roy was about to tell his subordinates was not common knowledge.

"...and it is believed that some of The Organization's leaders are also key figures in the military. We have been ordered to investigate this further; however we are advised to be circumspect in this matter, and to maintain secrecy in fulfilling the orders, we are to continue our normal duties as have been previously assigned."

"With all respect, Colonel, why are _we _being giving this task?" Master Sergeant Fuery asked. "Why not the Investigations Bureau?"

"I'll bet they did," said Second Lieutenant Breda. "It makes sense if you think about it. Those terrorist guys would be expecting the Investigations Bureau to be looking into it, but not someone who is outside of that, right? It's like chess; you gotta place your pieces just right to get the king." Roy wasn't sure he liked being referred to as a pawn on a chess board, but he supposed that was what he was.

"Breda's right," Roy said, and they all looked back to him. "That's why we're not on this thing full time. We need to watch and gather information quietly. As far as I'm aware, there are very few people who know that The Organization has a hold inside the military. We need to be careful."

Roy paused and took a moment to meet each of his subordinates' eyes, then said, "Trust no one."

* * *

Winry looked up at the sun and wiped her forehead. It was a hot, sunny day and she was feeling every bit of it. She frowned at the large truck engine she had agreed to fix. The truck was older than dirt and she didn't see why the guy didn't just buy a new one. She seemed to be always fixing the stupid thing and the amount the guy had paid her over the last year would be plenty to get himself a new one. She heard the sound of pebbles crunching as someone approached her from behind. The footsteps stopped and for a moment there was silence.

"You look hot."

Winry turned around and her face lit into a smile. Just seeing Al was enough to make her smile, but he just happened to be carrying a glass of lemonade which was just what she needed right now. She flipped her long, blonde hair back and said brightly, "Why, Alphonse, it's not like you to be so forward, but that's okay, I like compliments."

For a moment, confusion filled his large, brown eyes, but then he seemed to understand Winry's meaning and flushed a dark red. He opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again before stammering, "I... I brought... you some... uh..." He looked at the drink in his hands as though he had forgotten what exactly he had brought. "Um... some lemonade. Yeah..." He thrust the drink out to her, the force causing the liquid to slosh over the top of the glass and onto his hand.

Grinning widely now, Winry stepped off the stool she had been using and took the glass. The pale, yellow liquid seemed to call out to her and she drained half the glass before thanking him. "Let's go sit over there for a bit," she suggested, pointing to a large tree.

* * *

Ed stalked out the back door of the Rockbell house and sat heavily on the bottom of the wooden steps that lead from the veranda to the spacious expanse of inch tall grass he remembered so vividly from his childhood. For a moment, he saw a ghost of Al, Winry, and himself; younger and carefree, playing tag on the rich green lawn.

Reaching down, he picked up a rock from the small patch of dirt that lay between the grass and the steps. For a moment he continued to stare at the vision his mind had created, then hurled the stone angrily at the mental apparitions. Not surprisingly, the illusions disappeared and the rock landed harmlessly in the vegetation.

He felt a brief feeling of grim satisfaction, but then it faded and a wave of depression washed over him. He supposed he had once been that happy. Truthfully, it was hard to remember. He wished he could be that happy again. He did try, but not for himself. Not really. He tried for Al. Everything was always for Al…

Ed knew he had been behaving in an erratic fashion since he woke in the hospital, but he didn't know how to change it. He hated himself for being angry at Al all the time. It wasn't just Al, though... he was angry at _everyone_. Al just happened to be the most accessible outlet for Ed. Him, and Winry. But Winry... she deserved it... sometimes... sometimes he hated her... why did she always have to hang around Al? Why did Al always seem to want to hang around her?

Not like he was jealous or anything…

Ed felt tears prick at his eyes and he brushed them away in frustration. He wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't. Besides... it would all be better when they left Rizembool. It would be just him and Al, traveling around, hanging out together... they'd have fun and they wouldn't fight like they have been. Sure, they might fight a _little_, but that was normal...

He rubbed his face roughly and sighed.

If he could, he'd leave now. He felt so... so... impatient. He wanted to be _doing something_! But, he would stay. It was good for Al; the peace and quiet. He wanted his younger brother to get a chance to relax.

The all too familiar feeling of guilt started gnawing at him and he pushed himself off the step. He thought he should find Al and make things right with him again.

* * *

The shade under the tree was blessedly cool and when they were both seated, backs against the trunk, Winry took another drink from the glass; this time a sip, enjoying the sweet, coolness against her tongue.

For a time, the two sat quietly under the shade of the large tree; Winry sipping the lemonade, Al surveying the country side in his view. Two weeks. For better or for worse they had been back in Rizembool for two weeks.

There had been some great times, like when Izumi and her husband had come to visit. For those five days there had been almost nothing but fun and laughter. And, there had been bad times, like when Ed and Al had gotten into a shouting match and Ed had ended up spending the night at his mother's grave.

Winry looked up at Al. "So... what have you been up to today?"

Without looking at her he said, "Oh... well... brother and I were training earlier..." Winry kept silent, waiting for more. The mock fights were something the two brothers did every day. This was nothing new. Besides, they usually did that in the mornings. It was now well into the afternoon.

When Al continued to stay silent, Winry ventured a guess, "Did you and Ed get into an argument again?"

Al's eyes flicked toward her and his mouth tightened, but that was all. And that was all that needed to be said. Ed's mood swings were becoming worse every day. One minute everything would be fine, the next...

"What happened?"

Al just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Winry sighed. This too, was not so unusual. Most of the time even she had no idea why Ed got angry with her either.

"It's such a nice day," Al said with a grin that seemed forced.

Winry shook her head and took another drink. That was like Al. Change the subject when it becomes too painful. Of course... that was like Ed too. One thing the two had in common.

"Yeah, but it's a bit too hot for this time of year. We could use more of that rain we had a couple weeks back."

Al nodded his head in agreement. "I could just stay here forever, you know..."

Winry turned her head to look at him fully. "Why can't you? Why can't you just stay here? Where would you go?" This was the first she had heard of them not staying in Rizembool.

Turning his head to meet her gaze, he said, "He wants to travel... see the world..."

"But, you've already been doing that."

"It's not like it was a sight seeing trip, Winry. Half of the time we went places because brother was ordered there, and the other half it was because we were looking for the Philosopher's Stone. Brother thinks we should travel around to see the sights and relax, you know, and when we need money, we'll just fix stuff with alchemy," Al explained with a shrug.

"You don't sound much like that's what you want to do though..."

Al looked off into the distance without answering, and Winry pressed her lips together in an irritated gesture. "Don't ignore me, Alphonse Elric!" she demanded suddenly. "I can tell you don't really like Ed's idea, and you know what? That's okay! You don't have to _always_ do what Ed wants. And I don't just mean when you're feeling stubborn because Ed is being a jerk. If you want to stay here, you should. You could fix things _here_ with alchemy to earn money…" she trailed off when Al pulled his knees up, and laid his head, face away from her, on them.

Winry stared at him for a moment, let out her breath in frustration, downed the rest of the lemonade and set the glass on the grass before getting to her feet. "Thanks again for the lemonade," she said, not looking down at him, "I've got to get back to work," before walking away.

* * *

It didn't take Ed long to find Al, although he was a bit surprised at where he found him. Ed had thought he'd find his brother sitting by the pond, a place Al often frequented when they got into arguments, and in fact that was where Ed had been headed before he saw his brother sitting under the tree.

When he stepped into the shade of the tree Ed noticed his brother's body stiffen and it was obvious that Al was trying to ignore him as he stared straight ahead. Ed looked in the direction his brother was staring and saw Winry, small in the distance, working on some old piece of shit truck that should probably be in a junk yard.

Ed's eyes shifted to Al. _Is that why he's sitting here?_ Ed wondered silently and a sneer touched his lips as anger, and, even though he tried to deny it, jealously filled him. _Yep, I'm sure it is... Can't help looking at that whore in her short jean shorts and slutty tank top, can ya little brother? Are you thinking about how you'd like to take her around the side of the house and..._Al kept his eyes from Ed as long as he could muster, but it was difficult. He wanted to put this morning behind them and start getting along again, and Al was sure that was why Ed had come over to him. Except Ed hadn't sat down immediately; instead his brother had stared at him for a few minutes. Al knew this because he could _feel _his brother's eyes on him, then looked away.

* * *

Al knew Ed had caught sight of Winry when a low growl came from his brother. Most likely Ed was unaware he was making the sound.

Although Al was determined not to look at Ed until his brother spoke, he felt compelled to look up anyway, to see if he could figure out why Ed was still standing. When his eyes fell on Ed's face, Al wished he had resisted looking.

The vulgarity of Ed's thoughts were clearly written on his face. It was a fairly new expression; one Al had never seen on Ed before his coma. Since his brother's awakening, however, such looks were becoming more common every day. At first, Al hadn't known what the looks meant, but learned quickly enough when Ed began saying what was on his mind in such cases.

When Ed saw that Al was looking at him, he opened his mouth to speak, but Al got up quickly, grabbing the empty glass as he did so, and began walking away. He had no desire to know what indecent thoughts were on his brother's mind. Before he could get very far he felt a grip on his arm holding him back. The grip wasn't strong, however, and Al shook it off, walking away without looking back.

* * *

Ed watched Al leave with a mixture of anger, hurt and frustration. He hadn't even _said_ anything! _Jeez... _he thought. _What a fucking, pisser of a day this is turning out to be..._

He stepped back, leaned against the tree and looked up at the leafy, green, overhanging branches. Ed wasn't oblivious to why his brother had left and he felt irritated at not having kept his thoughts from his face. He knew Al didn't appreciate some of his dirtier thoughts, and he wondered how his brother could be so damn... _good._

But then, Ed couldn't really remember having much in the way of sexual thoughts before they had gotten Al's body back. That's not to say Ed hadn't had his share of wet dreams, or to say he'd never milked the lizard before he'd woken from his long 'nap' in the hospital, but he had never really... indulged... in it.

Most of the time he had been unable to remember the dreams he had dreamt before waking with the need for a clean pair of underwear, and when he _had _danced the wango tango, those times he'd been alone; which probably hadn't been often enough, Ed now mused, but Al had usually been around and that just wasn't something you did in front of your younger brother... Well at those times, he hadn't really fantasized about anyone or anything, only felt the pleasure of the moment.

Ed supposed it must have been because he had been too obsessed with finding the Philosopher's Stone, obsessed with getting Al's body back. Not only that, but they had always seemed to be on the move, going from place to place with danger all around them...

Now though... now Ed couldn't seem to go an hour without... and the things he thought of when he... Ed's cheeks flushed a dark red and he felt a stirring in his pants. The things he thought about…were things he would never, _could_ never tell _anyone._ Even _he_ was unsure of why he found them so fucking arousing... In a way it was all so... confusing. He should be having fantasies of hot chicks... not... well...

He tried to push the thought away, tried to deny his thoughts, but instead they became clearer in his mind and Ed felt glad he was alone when his cheeks flushed an even deeper red than before.

It had all started with a dream.

He had dreamt the same dream several times now, but the first time was what started it...

He had dreamt that he was lying on a bed, the room had been lit only by a dim light that was somewhere behind him, and standing above him, lightly rubbing the skin on his left arm had been...

At first he had been strangely comforted by the dream, but now he seemed to find himself thinking more and more about... Ed put his hands over his eyes and a soft groan escaped him. His dreams and fantasies had long since gone past that one innocent dream, but that first dream... that first one had seemed so... real.

He pushed away from the tree and walked away from it, away from the direction Al had gone, away from Winry and the broken down truck. For the time being he wanted to be alone.

Alone.

Except for his thoughts.

* * *

1 – Officer ranks in the series seem to differ from the manga at some points. In this story I will be using ranks from the series for these officers. Refer to episode 27 for officer ranks.


	4. The Storm

**Descent**

**Chapter Four**

**The Storm**

Al shifted the paper wrapped box he held as he caught sight of Ed waiting for him, just outside the market. They had come into the main part of Rizembool together earlier that day, but had split up as they went off on different errands.

"Brother!" Al shouted as he got closer to the small grocery store.

Ed, who had been staring blankly ahead, looked in Al's direction and flashed him a large, winning smile. Al looked at the two large, brown paper sacks and grinned back.

"You didn't forget the milk did you?"

Ed looked at him in mock seriousness and said in imitation of Warrant Officer Falman, "I'm very sorry, Alphonse, but a world wide plague has contaminated the species of _bos taurus_ making them unable to excrete the pale, white liquid rich in calcium, phosphorous, iron, zinc, copper, molybdenum, manganese, cobalt..."

Al laughed and shook his head as he listened to his brother list all the minerals.

"...thus making it impossible to acquire the item you have so diligently made an inquiry about." Ed finished with a grin and winked at his younger brother before tipping one of the bags, showing Al that he had indeed remembered to buy the milk along with the rest of the groceries.

A peal of thunder sounded and the two brothers looked up at the sky. The thick, dark clouds that had only been a tiny speck in the distance that morning, were now gaining on them with an almost unnatural speed.

_Looks like Winry is going to get her wish_, Al thought, thinking of the conversation from almost a week ago.

"We should return before it starts raining. You ready to go?" Al asked.

Ed, still grinning, nodded and they turned toward the road that would take them back to the Rockbell house.

* * *

Pinako Rockbell walked across the stone front porch, an unlit pipe jutting from her mouth, and looked north, toward town, at the rapidly approaching rain clouds. She thought briefly about lighting the pipe, but almost immediately decided against it; the wind blowing in her face making the decision for her.

There hadn't been a large storm in Rizembool for… well not since the one that had brought with it the Alchemist that would take the Elric brothers as apprentices; teaching them what they needed to know to figure out how to do the transmutation that would change their lives forever.

Pinako was sure that if Izumi had any indication that the boys had wanted to learn more alchemy to try human transmutation, the woman would have beat them so badly that they wouldn't have been able to move for a month.

But the past was the past. Now is what matters, and right now they were in for a lot of rain. She frowned and again looked toward town.

They were in for a lot of rain alright, and most likely, two very wet alchemists.

* * *

Al smiled as he listened to Ed talk. It was great to hear his brother laugh and joke; something that happened far too little now.

_What am I going to do?_ Al thought. He really wanted to stay in Rizembool. It was peaceful and quiet, something he hadn't had since they had tried to transmute their mother. He had seen the world plenty enough over the last six years and felt perfectly happy settling down to a less eventful life.

Then there was Winry…

He wanted to be where she was, live where she lived, and find out all the little things there were to learn about her. When he was younger he'd had a huge crush on her and had fought with Ed about who was going to be her boyfriend. He sighed at the memory.

_The childish things we do as kids... _he thought to himself.

He wished he could tell her how he felt, but he always seemed to be at a loss for what to say, and most likely she'd just laugh at him anyway. Winry was like that; so outgoing, so lively, so... so... well... so not like him.

Al's lips turned down into a frown. He wished he was more like Winry, more like Ed too, sometimes... Neither of them seemed to have a problem speaking their mind, but Al often did. He preferred to listen rather than talk. He'd rather take time and think things through before making a decision. And even though Al had always enjoyed competing with Ed as a child, he preferred not to be in the spotlight. Winry and Ed thrived in that light, but Al felt he would wither away in it.

Suddenly, Al realized Ed had stopped talking and was looking up at him with a slightly disapproving look.

"What?" Al asked.

"You aren't listening to me at all, are you?"

Blood rushed to Al's cheeks. Making an exasperated sound, Ed looked away and shook his head. "I'm sorry brother, I... I just had something on my mind..."

Ed shrugged his shoulders and the two of them walked in silence for a time before Ed asked, "So, what's in the box?"

Al looked at the box he was carrying. "Oh, um... nothing really..." It wasn't that Al didn't want to tell Ed what was in the box... not... precisely... it was just that he couldn't see this conversation ending well.

"What do you mean, 'nothing really'?"

Al cringed slightly at Ed's tone of voice, a tone that bordered on anger. Al might be taller than his older brother by quite a bit, but he was also much more passive than him. Ed had an aggressiveness that Al could never match. Even when he fought, Al didn't have the same fire that Ed did.

"It's just something for Winry..." he said, letting his voice trail off. To that, Ed said nothing. Al looked at him and frowned. There was an obvious look of displeasure on his brother's face now. "It's just that ratchet set she kept saying she wanted," he explained quickly, wanting desperately to avoid another argument with Ed. "It's really not anything, but I just thought I'd get it for her since she's done so much for us and all…"

_Since I want to make her smile... I want her to smile because of me..._

Al searched his brother's face for any change, but there was none. _At least he isn't yelling or arguing with me,_ Al thought, although whether that was good or bad he couldn't be sure.

A drop of rain hit the back of his neck, then another on his forehead. Quickly, Al tucked the box under his shirt to provide it some protection. He quickened his step, but slowed when he realized he was leaving Ed behind. His brother hadn't even changed his pace.

"Maybe we should hurry?" Al suggested, a bit timidly.

"Hurry if you want," Ed said calmly enough, but Al could hear the anger under the calm.

Al had no idea exactly _why_ Ed was mad. Was it such a bad thing that he bought something for Winry? He sighed as the rain became a slow drizzle, and slowed his pace to match Ed's, hoping he could salvage what was left of the day… even if it meant getting soaked in the process.

* * *

In one of the rooms on the second floor of the Rockbell home, Ed stood looking glumly out the window at the premature darkness beyond. Normally there would still be a little light left in the sky this time of day, but the sinister storm clouds hid the remaining light behind their black exterior. A strong wind blasted the pouring rain against the window, making the glass shake slightly. Behind him a candle flickered dimly in the otherwise dark room; the power having gone out hours before.

He pulled his long red coat tightly around himself. The room had a slight chill to it. He supposed he could go downstairs to warm himself at the large fireplace that dominated the living area, but…

He rested his forehead on the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes. From where he was standing, he could hear Al and Winry's voices as they argued about some game they were playing. He could almost see it happening in his mind. Pinako might be down there too, smoking her pipe and sitting in that rocking chair she favored...

Part of him wanted to join them; part of him wanted to stay in the chilly room, stay there and not come out. He felt so useless right now, so... well... un-needed. Not only that, but... sad... depressed... angry... hurt... lonely...

Ed forced his eyes open and pushed angrily away from the window. It was stupid, all of it. He didn't know why he was feeling the way he was; he certainly didn't seem to have any reason to feel the way he was...

Ed balled his right hand, his automail one, into a fist and stared at it with a doleful look. When he had woken in the hospital, he had been dismayed to see the automail, but had tried to cover it by focusing on the fact that Al was so much taller than him in the flesh, even so, he couldn't fool himself... and he didn't fool Al.

_Al..._

He looked away from the automail and made his decision. He was going to go down there. Al would want him to; he wouldn't want him to stay cooped up in this room... Ed sighed and made his way toward the door. He still hadn't made things right with Al from earlier and he felt guilty. Al was his brother, his only family... Al had suffered so much because of him. He needed to make things right with Al. Nodding to himself, he opened the door. Yes, that's what he was going to do... He was going to make things right with Al...

* * *

"Wha...? Hey, wait a minute!" Al exclaimed.

"Nope, nope, nope," Winry said in a musical way as she began turning the black game pieces over to white.(1) "You should be more observant."

Al frowned at how many of his pieces she had just won. He _had_ been paying attention! Really... Okay, well... maybe not. What was really on his mind was his older brother. Ed had this way about him. When he was mad he stayed away from you until he cooled down, then he just acted like things never happened... well... that wasn't exactly it, but it was close.

It wasn't that Ed _never_ apologized, because he did. It just had to be very major for him to do so. Something like... oh... doing something that caused you to lose your body then attaching your soul to a piece of armor. Ed _had_ apologized then, and many times after that, but over regular things, regular arguments... well, that just wasn't Ed's style.

Al leaned on the small, wooden table with one elbow, cradled his head in one hand, placed one of his pieces on the board and idly thought of checking to see if Ed was alright. He'd been upstairs for quite a while now...

He scowled at the board when Winry took yet more of his pieces and was about to add something more to their friendly bantering over the game when footsteps from the hall met his ears. Al looked up in time to see Ed walk into the room and lean against the door frame.

Al stared at his older brother, but Ed didn't meet his gaze. Instead, he looked at the game board with a small smirk and shook his head. The scowl Al had previously directed at the game was now directed at Ed as he waited for some quip about Al's lack of gaming skills.

"You should play me next, Winry. Your win won't come so easy," Ed said in a cheerful voice, although Al thought it sounded forced.

"Who says this win is coming easy, huh Ed?" Winry said, and Al cast a grateful smile in her direction. She was lying and they all knew it, but it was the thought that counted. "Anyway, I'm just getting warmed up. I'm saving my real wrath for you. We all know you suck worse than Al at board games. At least Al can win sometimes, unlike _you_." Had Winry been a few years younger, the last part would have been accompanied by a stuck out tongue.

"Yeah, whatever," Ed grumbled with an exaggerated roll of the eyes and a grin. "Come on Al, you aren't going to let this _girl_ beat you, are you?"

Al watched Winry glare at his brother before saying with a shrug, "Well, you know, I'm just trying to be a gentleman." At that remark, Winry's head snapped around and she scowled at him in mock anger... At least, Al hoped it was mock anger...

He glanced at Ed and saw a smug look of approval, but his attention was drawn back to the board as Winry slammed down another game piece and he involuntarily cringed. She really _was_ angry. Al was happy that Ed seemed to be in a better mood, but he felt guilty that it seemed to be coming at Winry's expense.

Al sighed and glumly placed a piece on the board. The game was almost over and it was obvious he was going to lose. Winry put her last piece on the board and flipped over the pieces she had won then said, "Ha! How about that?" She looked at Ed. "This _girl_ can beat you too!"

"Sure. You keep telling that to yourself long after we're gone. Maybe if you're lucky we'll bring you back a souvenir; perhaps a book titled 'How to Lose With Grace' would be good. What do you think Al?"

Al looked away from Ed's eyes and down at the board. He really did want to stay in Rizembool, but how could he make his brother understand? He could feel their eyes on him and he wished that he could just disappear.

* * *

Ed felt a pain in his chest when he saw his brother's reaction.

Al didn't want to leave…

Sadness and disappointment threatened to overwhelm him and he thought he would cry. Didn't his brother know how he felt? Didn't he care? He pushed the painful feelings aside and let anger take their place.

It was easier to be mad because it didn't hurt as much.

He felt the urge to lash out as the anger turned to white hot fury waiting for Al to respond.

_Why doesn't he say SOMETHING_? he thought angrily. _Why does he always have to act this way? Why doesn't he just say what's on his mind?_

Ed felt like he was going to explode any minute…

* * *

Al fought the urge to look up, but failed miserably. He slowly brought his head up and glanced briefly at Winry before turning to glance at his brother. Ed had a dark look on his face, and Al thought that perhaps Ed knew exactly what was going on in his mind.

He looked down again and said, "Brother... I..." but never got a chance to finish before Ed walked up to the table and roughly turned it over, sending the game pieces flying. He sat there, too stunned to say anything.

Winry, however, stood up and yelled, "What do you think you're doing, Ed?"

"Shut up," Ed said in a low tone.

"No! I won't! I want to know" Winry began, but stopped when Ed whirled around and pushed her hard against the wall near the fireplace.

"I said, shut the fuck up you skanky whore!"

That broke Al's momentary paralysis, and anger filled him. "Ed!(2) Stop it!" He made to get out of his chair but Ed turned around and pushed Al back with such force that the chair beneath him broke. Before he could register the broken wood beneath him, Ed was on him, grabbing his shirt. Al pushed the small, but heavy, alchemist over with his own body weight and they rolled on the floor, first Al on top then Ed again...

* * *

Winry stared in shock and disbelief at what was happening. Her back ached from where she had connected with the wall, but that seemed hazy in the fog of what Ed had said and the fact that he had actually acted out so violently against her.

'_I said, shut the fuck up you skanky whore.'_

The words seemed to tumble over and over in her mind. How could he say something like that? They were friends, had been friends their whole life... But Al had stood in her defense, in defense of her honor, and had once again become the target of Ed's fury.

Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks as she watched the two brothers who had always been so close, now fighting with a wild ferocity that made her feel sick. She watched helplessly as they rolled across the floor, each trying to gain the advantage of being on the top. When Al had a momentary advantage, he punched Ed hard in the face, once, then again.

"Stop it you guys!" she screamed through her tears.

This caused Al to hesitate and that was all Ed needed. He slipped his legs out from under his brother and kicked Al hard with them, sending Al tumbling backward. Ed was instantly on his feet and Winry shrieked when he savagely kicked Al in the side with his boot-covered automail foot. A loud crack sounded and Al let out a scream of pain.

Suddenly a short figure appeared near her side, panting heavily. Pinako looked shocked at what has happening. "Edward! Stop that this instant!" she hollered, but it had no more effect than Winry's plea.

Ed stood over his brother, a look of crazed hysteria in his eyes. When Al forced himself on his hands and knees, another brutal kicked, aimed at his stomach, knocked him back down again. Ed fell to his knees and rolled his brother over, automail arm raised and ready to punch, then stopped.

* * *

Al watched the world spin through a haze of pain as Ed turned him over onto his back. His breath came in ragged, agonized gasps, and he watched in a daze as Ed raised his fist, ready to strike. Al moved his gaze to his brother's face, and when his eyes connected with the gold ones he had known since childhood, something happened.

Ed stopped.

In the silence, blood dripped from Ed's nose onto Al's face and the soft, wet splattering sounds of the red liquid were loud in his ears. Sanity slowly returned to his older brother and tears began filling his eyes, making the gold orbs shimmer like a mirage.

"Brother..." Al said painfully; it sounded almost like a plea in his ears.

Ed's breathing became erratic. He gritted his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut, one of them already starting to bruise and swell from where Al had hit him. Two fat tears fell heavily onto Al's face. Ed dropped his hand and for a moment nothing happened, then Ed drew in a sharp breath and screamed. Suddenly Ed was on his feet, running toward the door. When he got there, Ed yanked it open, and fled into the storm.

* * *

1- Al and Winry are playing Reversi (I actually had this game growing up and it was called Othello, but it seems that Reversi is a more common name for it)

2 – I've noticed in the English Version, Al tends to call Ed by his name when he's mad at, irritated with, or scolding Ed. I like it, so I'm going to use it in this story.


	5. Stray Dogs

**Descent**

**Chapter Five**

**Stray Dogs**

Roy felt antsy and couldn't seem to concentrate on the work before him. A large stack of paperwork sat on his desk. Dull reports and mundane requests to either approve or disapprove were not his idea of a good time. He cradled his head in one hand staring blandly at the grains in the wood of his desk.

He really wished he'd hurry and get promoted.

He was lifting his free hand to turn the page when the door to his office burst open. A short, blond teenager stalked into the room carrying a folder thick with papers in his hands. The new arrival turned and roughly slammed the door behind him before stalking across the office and violently throwing the folder onto Roy's desk; scattering papers everywhere. A few documents fell slowly to the floor near his feet.

"Welcome back, Fullmetal," Roy said calmly, as he looked Edward Elric up and down. He was missing the long, red coat and black jacket he usually wore, and only had on the black tanktop and pants. The sight of the teen showing skin was alluring; arousing in a way that made him want to see what to see more.

Sighing, he looked at the mess of papers scattered across his desk. "He must have got up on the wrong side of bed this morning... like always..." he muttered to himself, then to Ed, "Well, Ed, I see that your brother's politeness hasn't rubbed off on you yet."

"Well, _Roy, _I see that Hawkeye's work ethics haven't rubbed off on you yet," Ed replied snidely.

He smiled, and thought he kind of liked hearing Ed saying his name, although he'd much rather hear it moaned or screamed it in the middle of a hot, lusty romp in the sheets. The mental image excited him, and he thought perhaps he'd like be alone for a bit.

Besides... he really didn't want to accept Ed's resignation...

"Actually I _was_ in the middle of something, so perhaps we could have this chat another time?" Roy said.

Ed growled, then said harshly, "I'm not here on a social call! You wanted me to turn in my resignation papers in person, so there they are. I'm not going to let you put this off or keep jerking me around."

"I'm not putting you off," he lied. "I _do_ have urgent business that I need to attend to." _Like throttling the joystick in the bathroom._ "Besides, I need to know that you've _really_ thought this over. Are you _sure_ leaving the military is what you want to do? Because, Fullmetal..." Roy leaned forward in his chair and looked into Ed's eyes. "...men of your _stature_ are in _short _supply."

Ed's hands clenched into fists and he yelled, "I've had it with your damn short jokes! Just sign the fucking papers. You're giving me a headache..."

Roy watched his subordinate and wondered how long this energy would last if they were screwing each other senseless.

"You sure it's a headache and not a foot ache?" Roy asked with a smirk. "I know it must be hard to tell the difference..."

Ed stalked over to the desk, slammed his hands down and looked straight at Roy. "Shut the fuck up! I can't _believe_ that out of 100,000 sperm, _you_ were the quickest! Your jokes aren't funny. Now sign the damn papers, you..."

_Speaking of sperm..._ "Okay, I'll sign them."

"..._arrogant_ son of a bi... what?" Ed stopped his rant with a stunned look on his face.

"I said, 'okay, I'll sign them,'" Roy repeated calmly, then looked around. "Of course, that is if you'll find which papers are yours..."

Ed peered warily at him as he moved to go through the papers. Roy turned in his chair and looked down at the documents on the floor.

"Fullmetal…" Roy said evenly, trying not to betray anything.

"What?" came the irritated response.

"Why don't you start with the ones over here?"

He heard an irritated sound from the young man, then, "You're right there, _you_ pick them up."

_But what fun would that be?_ Roy thought before saying, "Yes, but they're there because of you."

Ed walked around the desk and knelt on the floor. Roy looked at the blond head, which, in his line of sight, just happed to be right between his knees, and smiled. "That's not a bad position for you, Fullmetal."

The teen's head jerked up and Roy saw a startled look on his face. When he saw Roy's expression, Ed eyed him up and down with a sneer on his face. "Is that what your superiors say when you go in for your evaluations?"

Roy leaned forward in his chair, putting his face close to the kneeling teen. "Are you implying that I'm sleeping my way to the top?" he asked in amusement.

"Did you just make a pass at me a minute ago?" Ed countered.

Roy grinned; his desire burning with this new development. "What do you think?"

"I think you know what I was implying when I said what I did."

He leaned forward and whispered, "Well, your implication was _wrong_."

Ed stood and looked down at the seated man. Roy thought even a blind man would have noticed the large lump in the blond's pants. "I guess one out of two isn't bad?" Ed said, his words light, but full of the deeper meaning.

Roy reached out and moved a finger along the buckle on Ed's belt. "I guess not."

For almost a second there was silence, before Ed dropped the papers he was holding and climbed onto him, almost towering over his commanding officer, as he straddled Roy's legs. Ed roughly pressed his lips to Roy's as he began undoing the buttons that held the colonel's military jacket closed.

It didn't take Roy long to recover from the boy's quick movements. He grabbed Ed's firm rear in one hand, moved his other to unbuckle the belt and slipped his tongue inside the teen's mouth. Ed, now pulling open the jacket and starting on the white shirt, pushed his own tongue into Roy's mouth, urgently trying to take control of the kiss.

Before Ed could finish unbuttoning the shirt, Roy, now done with the belt, moved his other hand to Ed's ass before hoisting the young alchemist up and onto the desk. Ed grinned mischievously and scooted away. Lying down, Ed stared at him with an inviting look.

Roy raised an eyebrow and said through deep breaths, "What about the paperwork?"

"Fuck the paperwork."

Hoisting himself onto the desk with one knee, choicely placed between Ed's thighs, Roy leaned over the prostrate boy and said, "I'd much rather fuck you."

Ed grinned then quickly wrapped his legs around Roy's, grabbed his shoulders and used his body weight to turn the man over onto his back. Ed, instantly in the dominating position, looked down at Roy and said, "_I'm_ in charge now, _Flame Alchemist._"

"Oh really?" Roy countered and began to lift his hands to grab the boy, but Ed moved quickly and pinned them down. "If you're good, maybe I'll _let_ you be on top_ later_, but _right now_ you're being, very, _very,_ bad," Ed said the last as he rubbed his swelling erection against Roy's. He groaned and when Ed let go of his wrists, Roy grabbed the teen's head, pulled it down, closed his eyes, and roughly kissed him as he let his other hand go back to getting Ed out of his...

The phone rang.

Roy ignored it.

The phone continued to ring so he reached over, intending to pick the phone up then hang it back up again. But as his hand reached for the phone, the feel of the young man in his arms slowly disappeared. When Roy's hand landed on the phone, he opened his eyes, trying to figure out what had happened to his new play thing as his bedroom materialized around him in the darkness.

The phone continued to ring.

He blinked at the change of scenery. The phone rang again and he roughly yanked it from the receiver and growled, "What?"

There was a moment of silence before Kain Fuery's voice hesitantly sounded on the other line. "I'm sorry to wake you at this hour sir, but I just got some information that I thought you'd like to know."

He grabbed his pocket watch from the night stand. He tried twice to push the silver button, but his thumb kept slipping. His palms were sweaty; his whole body was covered in sweat. His penis was hard from the dream and Roy had a sudden, insane urge to hang up on the short, mousy master sergeant and have himself some hand to gland combat while thinking of how his dream might have ended.

Instead, he tried to ignore his throbbing need. Adjusting his boxers, he opened the silver pocket watch; but in the darkness he couldn't make out the time. A faint light from the street lamp outside came through the window behind his bed and he turned the watch slightly to catch the glow. When the beam shone dimly on the thin, crystal face, Roy grunted and let the hand holding the watch drop down on the mattress. It made a small bounce before laying still.

Roy sighed.

_This had better be good._

* * *

Winry opened the door to Al's room and peeked inside. Although it was morning, the storm that was still raging outside hid most of the light from the sun, making the room dim and gray. Through the gloom, she saw Al lying on a bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. In a way it was so strange... Six years earlier that same bed had held another injured Elric; a small boy of eleven missing an arm and a leg.

The two situations were so different though; then, Ed had saved Al by giving up his arm, and Al had stayed by his brother's side during the time Ed recovered, both from the trauma of losing two limbs, and also after the automail surgery.

This time however... this time it was Al in the bed, but he was alone. No brother to keep him company, to stay by his side.

Winry frowned.

And hadn't Al suffered the first time too? Not just because his brother was in pain, but because his spirit hadn't had a body of flesh and blood to call home. And hadn't that been Ed's fault too? If he would have just listened to Al and not gone through with trying to bring back their mother, wouldn't things be so different now?

Her lower lip trembled slightly and she swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She felt so _angry_ at Ed. After all they'd been through, how could he hurt his own brother like that? How could he attack the boy who had always idolized him?

And what about her? She hadn't done anything to deserve his wrath. The words he had spoken burrowed painfully inside her, hurting her in a way that his physical attack hadn't.

She pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, opened the door fully, and walked into the room. Balanced on her arm was a small tray holding some eggs, toast, and a bottle of milk. She placed the tray on the small bedside table and sat down next to the bed.

Winry looked down at her friend and sighed. Dark circles had formed under Al's soft, brown eyes making him look worn and haggard. In the two days since Ed had run off, Al had slept very little. Winry knew that he blamed himself for the argument, for the fight. She wished she could make him believe that he wasn't responsible, but nothing she said seemed to help.

"Good morning," she said softly.

"If you say so."

Winry chose to ignore his pessimism. "I brought you some breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

She grabbed an extra pillow from under the bed and propped it under Al's head. "I don't care. You need to eat." When she got no response from him, Winry picked up the plate, speared a couple pieces of scrambled egg and held it to Al's mouth.

He looked at her for a moment, sighed, then took the fork from her. "I can feed myself..."

Winry nodded and surrendered the plate to him. Some people were just too stubborn to take it easy. Al would be up and walking around sooner than he should. It had been the same with Ed when they had first equipped him with his automail. Winry just hoped he wouldn't try leaving to find his brother before his body could handle the stress of travel.

She frowned. A kick to the ribs, a kick _anywhere_, from automail was no laughing matter. Al was lucky he only had to contend with a black and blue midsection and a few broken ribs. It could have been worse…

_Ed... Why...? Why did it come to this,_ how_ did it come to this? And where did you go? Why haven't you come back? Why haven't you called? Don't you care about Al at all?_

Tears filled her vision and she stood up quickly. Turning her back to Al she said, "I'll be back, keep eating," before running from the room.

* * *

Roy looked at the map and sighed. In the four days since Fuery's middle of the night phone call, Roy had learned quite a bit without learning anything at all, if that were possible. The Organization had taken a large strong hold in the east. The military had been stationed out there to take care of the rebellion led by that priest, who just happened to have disappeared during some of the fighting... (1)

According to Fuery, a large group from The Organization had taken sides with the civilians and had rallied them against the military; strengthening Lior's position. Not only that, but many other towns and cities in the East joined with The Organization, revolting against the militant government.

Not many knew of this new development in the east, and the higher ups were trying to keep it secret for as long as possible. Roy didn't think this was a secret that would keep for very long given the magnitude of the situation. It had been this information that Fuery had been so anxious to give him. Truthfully, the news probably could have waited until the morning, but it _was_ important, and if his junior officers were going to do things like tap into phone lines in the middle of the night to get a job, that he gave them, done, then he'd better be willing to be woken up.

Of course, what had possessed the man to do such a thing in the middle of the night was beyond Roy, but whatever got the job done, he supposed...

The door to his office opened and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked in, shutting the door softly behind her. He looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see how late it was.

"Going home, lieutenant?" he asked.

"Actually, I have some things to finish before I start enjoying the weekend, so I'll be staying late."

"Oh. I see."

"I saw that there was light on under your door and thought I'd offer you a ride home if you were ready to call it a night(2)," she offered.

Roy looked at her in surprise. Since he didn't live very far from central headquarters, he usually just walked home.

She seemed to understand the look on his face because she said simply, "It's raining(3)."

He turned and looked out the window. It was dark, and sheets of water ran down the outside of the glass.

'Raining' was an understatement.

Perhaps a ride would be nice after all.

* * *

Roy stared out the car window as Hawkeye drove slowly down the street. The rain was coming down so hard that the buildings beyond the sidewalk were only fuzzy shadows in the darkness. The storm was truly an amazing display of nature's fury.

He was just glad he didn't have to fight out in it.

Without the use of his gloves he would have to resort to drawing arrays, if it were possible in the amount of mud there would be on a battlefield. Of course there was hand to hand combat, but he wasn't very skilled in that area…

_Well... we all have our strengths... _he thought. _I have flame alchemy, Hawkeye her guns, Armstrong his strength, Fuery his brains, Breda his tactical skills, Falman his amazing memory, Havoc his stealth and diplomacy skills, Elric his automail and his ability to transmute without a circle..._

He sighed at the thought of the stubborn, young alchemist.

_Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric... _he thought the name in his head.

_Fullmetal..._

Suddenly a blurry patch of red passed by his window and Roy sat up straight.

_Fullmetal? _He turned around in his seat, but could only make out a red fuzzy blob through the rain.

"Lieutenant, stop the car!" he ordered.

Her foot went to the break immediately and the car began to drift slightly to the side of the road before it stopped. If they had been going faster, the car would have slid down the street and hit a pole.

"Back up!"

The car began to drive in reverse until they once again passed the red blur.

"Stop!"

When the car stopped, Roy grabbed the umbrella at his feet, opened the door, opened the umbrella, and stepped out into the rain. The red blur was walking toward him and soon the blur became a short, blond teenager wearing a long, red coat. The boy's shoulders were slumped, his head bowed, and he walked with slow shuffling steps. He was so drenched that a tub of water could have been poured on him and he wouldn't have gotten any wetter.

"Fullmetal?"

The shuffling gait stopped, but Ed didn't raise his head.

Roy walked over to the seventeen-year-old, moving close enough that the large umbrella covered them both. The two alchemists stood there for several minutes before Roy spoke again.

"Fullmetal?"

Ed's head, still down, turned slightly away and Roy's eyes narrowed. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took a hold of Ed's chin. He gently tried to move Ed's head up to look at him, but the boy resisted.

Roy took a firmer grip and pulled up with more effort, though still being gentle. For a moment, Roy thought he wouldn't be able to get Ed to look at him, but then he surrendered and his head came up easily in Roy's grip.

What Roy saw made him gasp slightly. Ed's left eye was bruised, but starting to heal; black and blue just beginning to show the change to a sickly yellow. The other eye was baggy and had dark under circles, from lack of sleep he guessed. The teen's nose was also bruised and a small amount of crusty blood was visible in one of the nostrils. Ed's eyes were red and puffy, and his face looked splotchy. The Flame Alchemist could only suppose this was from heavy crying.

But the worst thing Roy saw in Ed's eyes was defeat, depression, and hopelessness. The fire was gone and only a dull, dead look remained.

A million questions ran though Roy's mind, but none of them seemed appropriate for the moment, so he said nothing. Later would be a better time for questions, but not now. He let go of Ed's chin and took a hold of his arm. It was like grabbing a sponge. Water gushed from the heavy clothing and ran down the sleeve of Roy's uniform.

"Come with me, Fullmetal; you know it's not safe for a State Alchemist to be out on his own, especially at this time of night.(4)"

Roy guided the younger State Alchemist toward the car and thought, _I guess Fuery isn't the only one with a weakness for stray dogs...(5)__  
_1) Refer to episode fourteen. I am, obviously, taking some liberties here concerning the story line and the time line.

* * *

2)Throughout the series, you see Hawkeye and Havoc driving Mustang in a car. Having no idea who the car actually belongs to, I'm going to assume it is a military owned vehicle and that those of higher rank have a sort of limited use of the vehicles. In this case, I am going to assume that it would be alright for Hawkeye to drive Mustang home, but the car would need to be returned to the military building. Mustang could not drive himself home and keep the car there.

3) They're getting the same storm Rizembool had. Rizembool is north of Central City.(refer to episode two.) _Note: The fansub I watched used north, but the English dub said east, so I went back and actually listened to what Al was saying and he did say east... However, since it has already been established to being in the north in this story, I won't be changing that._

4) As I said in the summery of what is going on in the FMA world in the first chapter, Scar is still on the loose.

5) You'll remember in episode 13 when Fuery found the puppy it was raining, though the storm wasn't nearly as bad as the one in this chapter.


	6. A New Government

**Descent**

**Chapter Six**

**A New Government**

Roy shut the door and looked at his young guest. Ed was gazing around the living area with little enthusiasm while a puddle of water formed at his feet. The colonel let out a long breath. It was obvious something serious was going on in his subordinate's head. Ed wasn't the type of person to become passively quiet.

He debated in his mind about how to handle the situation. Tell Ed to make himself at home and observe him? Or take charge to make sure the blond was adequately taken care of... Roy's eyebrows knit together as he tried to decide the best course of action. As his eyes lingered on the dejected looking alchemist, he made up his mind.

"Alright, let's get you out of those clothes. You should probably take a warm bath..." He expected some sort of outburst from the teenager demanding not to be treated like a kid, but none came. "Come with me," Roy said after a moment, then started walking, but stopped when he realized he wasn't being followed. When he turned back to Ed, the short alchemist was staring at the floor.

Frowning in concern, the colonel walked back and took Ed gently by the arm. "This way," he said kindly.

* * *

Bartholomew Kagegkuski(1), leader of the faction called The Organization, sat in a hard wooden chair with a bottle of whiskey. He didn't bother with a glass; he planned on drinking the whole thing anyway.

Kagegkuski was a large blond man. His heavily muscled body gained from his apprenticeship as a blacksmith in his youth, and years of fighting. Because of the severe expression he often wore, it was often assumed, by those who didn't know him, that he was a cold man. However, the opposite was more the truth.

Once a person came to know Bartholomew, it was difficult not to like him. He was kind and generally had a good sense of humor. Truthfully, he hated war and wanted to live in peace, but he felt that, because of the atrocities of the government, he had no choice but to fight.

The once small group he had formed to fight secretly against the military had grown into a force to be reckoned with. It wasn't just the military that he opposed; it was the _ideals_ of the military, of a militant government. Kagegkuski believed that the people should govern themselves; that the working man should have just as many rights as the rich.

People shouldn't have to live in fear of their government. An official should represent what the people wanted and if they didn't, then a different person should be elected. Everyone should be equal. No one should have more than another. No one should have to go hungry because they didn't have enough…

He frowned. For years he had truly believed that sabotaging the military would help in accomplishing those objectives. He never thought of starting his own governing body… starting a civil war… until…

The blond man took a swig from the bottle, then stared at the thin ring he wore on his left hand; a ring with a blood red stone fixed into the gold band.

"You know… it isn't good to drink so much. At least, that's what I've been told."

Kagegkuski's head snapped up at the smooth female voice and saw a tall woman in a low cut black dress standing in front of him.

"It's never an easy thing; killing men. Even if they're the military, even if it's for a good cause… it's not an easy thing," he replied gravely.

The dark haired woman smiled and Bartholomew thought that perhaps this woman didn't feel the same, but kept his thoughts to himself. It was her, after all, who had given him the ring; had given him the idea of aiding Lior and beginning a new government. A government for the people…

The idea was spreading through the east like a wild fire and many people had flocked to Lior, seeking out the ideals of The Organization; or rather, The People's Government, as they were calling their new governing body. These people then took the newly learned ideals to their towns and cities. Some had even decided to join themselves with the new government and they had gained more recruits to their army. No longer were they just a band of terrorists, but an army.

The People's Army.

"You've done a good job here in the East. As good as can be hoped for, but it won't be enough. After the military realizes they can't win by just sending their regular troops, they will start sending their State Alchemists here to eliminate you, just like in Ishbal. Are you prepared to handle that?"

Bartholomew took a long drink from the bottle, then set the whiskey on the floor and rubbed his eyes before looking back at the woman. "Isn't that what this ring is for?" he asked.

"Oh that won't help you against a large group of State Alchemists."

He stared at her for a moment, thinking about her words before saying, "Then what should we do?"

The woman smiled. "What you should do is recruit your own alchemists."

"We already have some alchemists."

"You don't have enough, and the ones you have aren't nearly skilled enough."

The large man grunted. "Wouldn't the army already have all the alchemists that were good at doing anything?"

She shook her head, amused. "The state only accepts one or two new alchemists a year. Do you think the rest just stop practicing alchemy? A person could train all their lives and never be chosen as a State Alchemist because of how many applicants there are each year. Many talented people are just waiting to use their abilities. You could give them that opportunity."

He mulled over that. "Our own 'State Alchemists'…. Hmmmm… Not a bad idea…."

The blond man watched as the busty woman's smile took on a pleased look. He wasn't sure why she was helping him. When he had asked she had only said that she had her reasons, but he would keep accepting it for now.

For now she was an ally, but if she ever proved otherwise… well… he would do what he had to do…

* * *

Ed sat in the deep tub of hot water, looking at the small pile of clothes Mustang had brought in for him to wear after the bath. He wasn't sure why the colonel was being so kind to him. Normally the black haired man took a perverse pleasure in tormenting him, and making jokes at his expense.

Not that Ed really minded the attention, his strange new attraction to the man making his heart jump whenever Mustang spoke so kindly to him. It hurt to know that the dark eyed man would never look at him the way Ed wanted him to. Even more painful was that if his superior officer ever found out about Ed's feelings, he'd probably be disgusted, embarrass the hell out of him then get him kicked out of the military. Not that Ed would ever let him find out…

Ed frowned at the pile of clothes. He didn't deserve kindness… not from the colonel… not from anyone…he was a monster…he didn't deserve to live…not after…

Not after…

Ed tried to push the thoughts out of his mind, but they wouldn't go. He was despicable, unworthy of any love and kindness. He had committed the unforgivable sin of trying to transmute his mother and in the process almost lost one of the most precious things he could ever have… even then, he'd caused that important thing, that important _someone_, to loose their body and had to attach their soul to a hollow, lifeless shell.

_Alphonse..._

His chest constricted and he felt tears come to his eyes.

It had been because of _him_ that his brother had been forced to live those long six years in that cold, empty existence. Those years were lost; Ed could never give them back. Of course, he _had _found a way to get Al's body back…

Ed felt the sudden urge to throw up.

He hadn't told the truth about how he was going to get Al's body back. He'd lied and said he'd tell Al everything later… and of course his brother had believed him… When he woke in the hospital, Ed had been prepared to tell Al he couldn't remember what he had done, but Al had never asked.

He never wanted Al to find out. Ed could barely live with himself now, knowing what he had done. If his brother ever found out… Al would hate him…

Not that he didn't already, Ed was sure.

What kind of depraved person attacks their younger brother? He couldn't ever remember feeling so much _rage_. If sanity hadn't returned to his mind when it had… Ed was sure he would have continued beating on Al until he was dead…

If he wasn't already.

Ed's breathing was coming in short gasps as he tried to hold back the tears. Frantically he cast his gaze around the small room, trying to focus on something else. His eyes fixed onto his clothes, now hanging from a rack. The colonel had put a bucket underneath it to catch the dripping water. The bucket was just about full and his heavy clothes now only gave a drop of water about every ten seconds.

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

He couldn't seem to turn his gaze away, the water having a hypnotizing affect on him.

Drip…

The echo of game pieces crashed through his mind.

Drip…

'_What do you think you're doing Ed?' _

Drip…

'_Ed! Stop it!' _

Drip…

'_I said, shut the fuck up you skanky whore!'_

Drip…

'_Stop it you guys!'_

Drip…

Ed squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his hands over his ears.

Instantly, an image of his brother filled his mind. Al's liquid, brown eyes afraid, confused and radiating the pain from his injuries… wounds _he _had caused… Ed gasped and his eyes flew open.

Drip…

'_Brother...'_

Drip…

Tears ran down the young alchemist's face. He felt a sharp pain in his chest from the guilt of what he had done. He deserved to die for his transgressions. The world had no need for someone as horrible as he. Everyone would just be better off if he died.

Drip…

_Al... Al... I'm sorry Al... You must hate me now. I don't blame you. I would hate me too. You're better off without me. I've ruined your life enough..._ At these thoughts, Ed couldn't hold back the flood of pain that filled him, and began to sob.

* * *

Lust stood in the center square of Lior looking into the round fountain; the wine it once held dried up like the old preacher who had provided it. She shook her head, her black hair bouncing on her shoulders. Not dried up…

Dead.

Dead just like this city should have been after the military came to pull down the old prophet. Of course, by then it had been Envy, the real preacher already dead.

It seemed these people were lucky after all though. Bartholomew Kagegkuski, her new pawn, had been a great find. The man was already sending people to spread the news of The People's Government to the north and to the south. With Kagegkuski's forces growing larger every day, Amestris would soon become a country torn by civil war.

She smiled.

And now the alchemists would begin coming; another part of the plan put into action. Once the devastation became great enough, they would be more desperate than ever to create a Philosopher's Stone.

If it got to that point…

If the next part of the plan failed…

"Sooo…how'd it go?"

She turned.

Envy, accompanied by Gluttony, came to stand beside her. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to answer.

"All as planned," she replied.

He nodded with a cunning grin. "I guess I should ready things for when I go 'fishing' then."

She sighed as Gluttony, finger in his mouth, sidled up to her. "Do you think our 'fish' will bite? We've already…"

Lust began but cut off her words when Envy laughed and changed his form. "Of course… after all… 'fish' are generally stupid, but this one is one of the dumbest."

* * *

Roy sank into the soft chair with a sigh. He lifted the glass of brandy to his lips, taking a sip and looking at the blond teenager asleep on the couch. The young alchemist was laying on his left side, using his real arm, his hand dangling off the side of the couch, for a pillow. The real pillow Roy had got him lay on the floor next to the couch.

A small blanket covered Ed's torso and thighs but the rest spilled onto the floor and lay next to the pillow. Roy focused his gaze on the boy's legs; automail foot and a real one stuck out of the sweats the black haired man had given him. The gray sweats were Roy's, and he had needed to cut off half the length so that they would fit his guest. Even then, the drawstrings had needed to be tightened quite a bit, given Ed's smaller waist.

His eyes traveled up the blond's body past the blanket to the shirt the teen wore; another piece of Roy's own wardrobe. The white tee-shirt just about drowned the boy. The neck opening was drawn over Ed's automail shoulder, showing where the dull metal attached to the skin.

The colonel's gaze ran up the boy's neck and to his face. Strands of loose blond hair crisscrossed a face that looked splotchy from too many tears. The blackish-purple, now turning yellow, bruise that was Ed's eye contrasted sharply with both the boy's skin and his hair.

Roy sighed and took another sip. He had been unsuccessful at getting his young guest to eat anything after the bath, and the colonel had only moderately pushed Ed to drink the hot tea he had prepared. He thought perhaps it was better to let the teen be for now.

It hadn't been difficult to hear the boy's sobbing, even through a closed door…

Another sip.

Roy wasn't sure if he was grateful to the general he served under at Eastern Headquarters a few years back, or not. When Roy had said he was transferring back to Central, the general mentioned that he had a sister there that rented out some nice apartments, and that he would call her up and have her give him a good deal if he was interested.

Eager for any opportunity to get connections, Roy agreed that it would be a pleasure to rent from the general's sister, and indeed it had been. The apartment, though small, was larger than the studio apartments he usually rented, and it was fully furnished. For a small extra fee the woman even did light housekeeping.

An amazing deal.

However, right now a small studio apartment might have served his interests better. The young alchemist had a place to sleep on the couch, but if Roy didn't have a couch…

He took another sip, disgusted with himself. It was obvious that something bad had happened and that Ed was severely depressed, but all he could think about was how he wanted to get the blond alchemist off the couch and into his bed.

"Alphonse…" Ed moaned.

Roy sat forward in the chair, watching the boy. Ed's face held a distressed look and he turned onto his back.

"Al…please… I'm sorry Al… I'm sorry…" Roy took one more sip of the brandy before setting the glass on the small table near the chair. He got up and knelt close to the couch, unsure of what he should do.

Ed's head jerked to one side, then back again. "Al!" he screamed. "Alphonse!"

Roy took a deep breath, then slid his right arm under Ed's head and wrapped his other arm over Ed's arm, his hand pressing against the teenager's back. He pulled the boy closed and whispered, "Edward… It's alright… It's alright…"

The thrashing and screaming stopped and a gasp came from Ed as he jolted awake. The boy stiffened and Roy could only assume he was realizing where he was and who was holding him. For a moment he thought of letting go, but decided against it almost immediately. This would probably be the only time he'd ever have the golden eyed teen in his arms.

Roy closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to Ed's sweaty forehead. He began a rocking motion while continuing to whisper reassurances to the short alchemist. After a few moments, Ed relaxed in his arms. For almost thirty seconds there was no sound in the room but Roy's whispers, and then Ed began to cry.

Roy could feel the teen's body tremble as great sobs came from him. "Al… Al…" Ed repeated over and over.

He resisted the urge to shake the problem out of the blond. He told himself to be patent. Ed would tell him if he needed to know. It wasn't military business, so Roy had no right to demand the information. He just hoped Alphonse was alright.

Slowly, he continued the rocking. He felt ashamed; wishing that the boy would keep crying, keep needing to be held.

_Ed was right all along. _He thought to himself. _I really am a bastard._

* * *

1) Bartholomew Kagegkuski is not a character in the series or the manga.


	7. Apples

**Descent**

**Chapter Seven**

**Apples**

Ed woke to the sound of pans clanging and something frying. From the smell he thought it might be potatoes. Normally he'd be famished this time of the morning, but now he only felt a nauseating feeling in his stomach.

He didn't want to eat; didn't feel like it…

More clanging then, "aaahh! Dammit! Ouch! Mother fucking piece of shit!"

Ed raised an eyebrow; he'd have to remember that the next time the colonel got on his case about swearing.

The colonel…

The young alchemist could feel his cheeks heating in embarrassment as he thought about what had happened during the night. He could still feel Mustang's strong hold on his body; could still feel the breath from the man as he spoke softly to him. His heart began beating faster just from the memory.

But then…he had been crying, crying from the nightmare, crying for Al…

How embarrassing…

Ed covered his eyes as if to block out the memory. The colonel must think he was such a child. He was sure he'd never live it down, even if Mustang had been…tender…with him, even if the man had held him and rocked him…

Ed's blush deepened.

The sound of scraping, then the sound of plates being set down, sounded from the kitchen, then he heard Mustang come up behind him. Ed was lying with his face toward the back of the couch, but that wouldn't hide the fact that he was awake; lying there, the way he was, with his hands pressed flat against his eyes. He just hoped the dark haired man wouldn't notice how red his face and neck must be.

There was a moment of silence, then, "Time to get up Fullmetal."

"No. Go away," Ed said automatically, wishing his face would cool down. He didn't want to face the colonel, didn't want to face the inevitable questions that would come.

There was a sound of exasperation from behind him, then, "Breakfast is ready."

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

"You're not hungry…?" Mustang asked doubtfully. "You didn't eat last night either…"

Ed shifted uncomfortably at the sound of concern in Mustang's voice. It felt strange thinking that his commanding officer was concerned about him. He didn't dare hope that the man could possibly _care_ for him.

"You know… sometimes people just aren't hungry…" Ed growled in response.

"Not you," In his mind, Ed could see Mustang shaking his head.

Ed sighed. The colonel was right….but he just didn't _want_ to eat. He wasn't hungry.

"With your metabolism, I'm afraid you'd die in a couple of days if you didn't eat," Mustang said with a slightly amused tone.

"I wish I would…" The words came out before he could stop them and almost instantly he felt the dark eyed man grab his arm and wrench him around to face him. The force of Mustang pulling him around drew his hand away from one of his eyes; Ed's other hand dropping down to steady his position on the couch. His gaze fixed on Mustang's black eyes and the intensity in them scared Ed more than he would admit.

"Don't you say that!" the older man hissed.

Ed's eyebrows scrunched together as tears threatened to come again.

"Why?" Ed whispered, voice quivering. "Why do you care if I live or die?"

He watched as the other man's eyes twitched slightly at the question. Dark eyebrows knit together and the black orbs moved slightly as they studied Ed's face. Then suddenly Roy looked away and said, in a forced light tone, "Well it wouldn't do to have one of my subordinates die, especially when it isn't in battle. It looks bad on my evaluation report."

Ed felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him. Suddenly rage, pain, and disappointment all mixed together inside him. He pushed against Mustang as hard as he could and jumped to his feet. The room swam as tears flooded his vision.

_I hate you! I hate you... you... you...fucking bastard! _Ed thought savagely.

It wasn't as if he'd had any sort of … anything… with the other man, but he _wanted _it so much. He'd wanted Mustang to say, 'I don't want you to die because I care about you.' But, _no_… That _bastard_ was just thinking about his next promotion!

He ran, not knowing exactly where he was going. He only knew he had to get away from the other man, had to get away before he couldn't hold back the tears. When he saw a door, he ran toward it, fumbled with the doorknob before he could get it open, then flung himself inside, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Roy watched as the short alchemist ran around the corner and into the bathroom, then sat heavily on the floor. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair then winced. He had forgotten about the burn from cooking breakfast…

_Why did I say that...?_ he asked himself.

Of course the question was an unnecessary one, and he knew it. He'd said it because he'd gotten scared… scared of what he had seen in Ed's eyes. He rubbed his face with his hand, the one that wasn't burnt.

A sound caught his attention and he looked up toward the bathroom. The sound was that of something breaking… The mirror, he guessed. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of crying; faint at first, but quickly becoming sobs.

Ed wasn't one to just start crying. He had always been strong, but Roy had seen, or heard, the young alchemist cry more since he picked him up off the street than the whole time he'd known him. It was confusing, in a way, to see the blond so emotional and distraught.

The whole thing just made him feel terrible; terrible for being the one to start the flow of tears again… and terrible for missing his chance. It had been there, in his eyes…he had wanted Roy to say something to make him feel wanted; cared for.

And wasn't that just the chance of a lifetime? Didn't he want to get closer to Ed? Of course he did… but at that moment… at that moment he'd gotten scared. What if he'd misread the boy? What if Ed found out the reason, the _real_ reason, why Roy was being so kind? What if he was disgusted? What if he told someone? Relationships between commanding officers and their subordinates were prohibited. What would happen to his career? The military didn't exactly look kindly on soldiers whose sexual preference were men…

Frustrated and angry with himself, Roy got up and headed for the kitchen. He passed the potatoes he'd cooked. He wasn't too bad of a cook, but he didn't do it very often. Since Roy usually ate at the cafeteria or ordered take out, his supply of actual food was rather sparse. He had potatoes, tea, coffee, a few cans of soup and various containers containing leftovers from previous meals…

And liquor.

He opened a cupboard and let his eyes wander over the assortment of bottles that could have been labeled a mini liquor store. He _really_ needed a drink; needed something to dull the ache inside of him. He reached out his hand...

'_Roy, the answer to life's problems won't be found at the bottom of a bottle.'_

He let his hand drop.

_Maes..._

Roy squeezed his eyes shut. How long ago had that been...? Quite a few years… After he had gotten back from the front lines in Ishbal, after he had killed so many people… Back then he'd spent most of his time either drinking, wishing he was dead or studying human transmutation.

Usually all three at the same time.

But Maes Hughes, and Roy's new ambition to become Fuhrer, had helped him through it. He'd gotten past the insane desire to find a way to bring the dead back, and it was only after flashbacks or nightmares that he thought of suicide. Even the constant, desperate, heavy drinking had slowed.

Slowed…

But not stopped.

Not completely.

Not a day went by that he didn't think about drowning himself in alcohol; to giving into the urge to feel numb to the daily problems of life. He wanted to make sure that nothing like Ishbal ever happened again, but to do that he needed to be in charge, and to do that… to become Fuhrer… sometimes he had to do things he found particularly despicable.

He'd often been called a 'bootlicker' by other soldiers and been despised in their eyes, but he tried to bear it the best he could, since even _he_ despised himself for it. Usually he survived by overworking himself until he collapsed. It kept his job performance high.

And it kept him from drinking too much. Not that he had a problem anymore… just once in a while he would drink a little more than what he should… but it wasn't often…

Normally he did just fine… really, he did… he was able to just have one glass without giving into the desire to have more.

Roy raised his head. The sobbing from the other room had quieted. He sighed and shook his head, not knowing what to do. Dark eyes moved over the bottles one more time, hoping they really might have the answer.

_Maybe just one drink..._ he thought. He could just have one drink…

Really…

* * *

Winry stared at the mess surrounding Al's bed. Stacks of alchemy books dotted the floor at intervals. A small bucket of black paint sat on the floor, half empty, and a thin paintbrush was sticking out of the thick liquid. Papers were scattered around, different arrays painted on each of them. Two buckets of wash water, now murky, sat quietly off to the side. But strangest of all were the two small piles of non-descript dolls. One pile contained normal enough looking dolls, but the other held dolls that were mutilated or destroyed in some way.

She looked at the sleeping teenager on the bed. Even in his sleep he looked tired. An arm dotted with flecks of black paint lay on the covers. When her eyes rested on his hand she gasped involuntarily.

Faint ghosts of small transmutation circles could be seen on his palms, as if he had drawn them there, then washed them away, then drawn something different.

She looked from Al to the small pile of mangled dolls feeling concern and fear well up within her.

* * *

Ed sat on the floor, back to the bathtub staring at the shards from the mirror. He supposed it was a stupid, foolish thing to do; taking his anger out on the glass…even dumber to do it with his real hand.

Blood dripped from the cuts and gashes in his knuckles. In the beginning, the red liquid had made small splatter patterns on the floor, but now each drop just added to a rapidly growing puddle in front of him.

He had taken to letting some of the drops hit the gray sweat pants and the white tee-shirt. Maybe Mustang would be more concerned about him if he was covered in blood… His lips pulled down into a deep frown, then again maybe not.

_He'll probably just get mad... _Ed thought. He supposed that wasn't a bad thing… It would help him stay mad at the other man; help him not to think about how desperately he wanted the colonel to put his arms around him again.

_I don't deserve it... don't deserve someone caring about me... not after what I did to Al... _At the thought of his brother, tears welled up in his eyes again. How could he have done such a thing? Was Al even okay? He didn't know, and couldn't bring himself to place the phone call to find out.

What if he was dead? What if Ed had killed him? Killed him just like…

Ed shook his head violently and squeezed his injured hand. The physical pain helped him to forget the mental anguish of what he had done, and he watched as fresh blood flowed from his wounds.

He looked over at some of the larger pieces of the mirror; sharp edges gleamed wickedly in the artificial light. His gaze moved to his arm and wrist at the soft blue lines that were his veins.

_Maybe I could..._

But he knew he couldn't. He had tried to end his life before, right after he'd left Rizembool, but he had been too scared.

Too cowardly.

He had hoped that if he wandered Central long enough, Scar would find him and do the work for him. But that…that… _bastard_…had found him instead. He should just leave. After all, he was just going to resign from the military anyway. The colonel was just wasting his time.

But…if he retired from the military Scar would have no reason to go after him.

Ed hung his head, letting his blond hair fall around his face and squeezed his eyes shut letting a single tear trickle down his face.

* * *

Roy poured himself another glass of applejack(1). He'd just have one more. This was only his fourth glass, and he could handle quite a bit more than that. He looked at the more than half empty bottle and frowned. It had been full when he'd pulled it out of the cupboard…

His eyes went back to the glass. It did seem a bit more…full…than it was supposed to be… Maybe he'd been pouring himself too much…?

In any case, he was feeling better than he had been. Even his hand didn't hurt as much. He lifted the injured hand up to get a better look. Well… maybe he should put something on it… but he'd do that later.

Dropping the hand, Roy used his other one to pick up the glass. He drained half the liquid before setting it back down, then moved his gaze in the bathroom's general direction. Ed had been in there for a long time. The sounds of crying had ceased and now no sound at all came from the restroom.

The colonel's brow crinkled. It was a little…too…quiet in there. Maybe he should go check on him…

Besides that, Fullmetal just happened to be occupying the only bathroom, and after drinking over half a bottle of applejack he had to point the pink pistol at the porcelain firing range, and soon.

Roy stood up, a bit unsteadily at first as the world seemed to shift. When the room stopped tilting he moved to go to the bathroom when he remembered the glass of alcohol. Without a second thought he picked it up and drank the rest. Can't have good liquor go to waste…

Again he was about to go, but thought he should put the bottle away. After all, he thought as he gently placed the bottle back among its companions, couldn't have Ed seeing how much he had drunk…not like he really cared…really…it wasn't as if he really had a problem anymore anyway. He'd just felt like drinking a bit more than usual this time…that's all…

When Roy finally made it to the bathroom, he tried the knob only to find it locked. He let his head rest against the door as he stared down at the antique looking knob.

_What to do what to do what to do… _

Finally he lifted his head up, raised a fist and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time with a firm, "Fullmetal!"

Again, no answer.

Roy was becoming more than a little concerned. He tried again and finally got an answer.

"Go screw yourself, you bastard!" was shouted loudly from the other side of the door.

Concern changed rapidly to irritation.

He was going to get into the bathroom one way or another…

* * *

Ed's body jumped when the door to the bathroom burst in and became little splinters, some of them turning into ashes from the flames before they even touched the floor. Shock at what had just happened kept his body ridged as a man dressed in baggy dark gray sweats and a white tee-shirt, with one gloved hand raised, stepped through the door way.

The first thing that Ed's brain processed was the fact that he and the colonel were dressed almost in exactly the same clothes. He hadn't really noticed what Mustang had been wearing when he had run off. He felt two conflicting feelings over this, the first being that of irritation. Didn't the stupid old man have anything else to wear? The second, more underlying, feeling was that of confused attraction…

The dark haired man dropped his hand and walked toward him, a dark menacing look in his eyes. Ed sat still, refusing; he hated to think unable, to move. When the colonel was almost in front of him, the man turned his back to him and walked toward the toilet.

Ed blinked.

When the sound of the other man relieving himself began, the blond teenager blinked again then felt a crazy urge to laugh well up inside of him. It was just so fucking _strange_; something he hadn't expected. Finally he couldn't hold it back and laughter bubbled out of him. He closed his eyes, the sound of the insane laughter filling his ears; as if it were from someone other than him.

When he finally was able to begin pulling himself together Mustang was applying some sort of cream on his hand and looking at him warily. Ed's eyes fixed on the cream and he thought, _Maybe he really will screw himself. I wonder if he'll do _that_ right in front of me too!_

That thought made him start laughing again. He wanted to stop, his side hurt and tears were streaming down his face, but he couldn't.

_I've snapped,_Ed thought as he continued to laugh hysterically. _I've totally lost my fucking mind._ _They're going to put me in one of those places where there are padded walls and they put you in one of those white coats so your arms are tied down, and they'll spoon feed me... applesauce..._ he thought as his nose caught the sent of apples.

"Fullmetal!" The sound seemed far away through the uncontrollable laughter.

Suddenly the laughter was cut off when he felt a stinging sensation in his cheek. For a moment he was too stunned to think of what could have happened, but then his brain registered the sensation as a slap and his eyes turned to look at the man crouched in front of him.

Ed stared at Mustang's unreadable face for almost a full minute as his breathing slowed, then he said, almost meekly, the only thing he could think of.

"You smell like apples…"

* * *

1) A strong alcoholic beverage produced from apples. It is slightly sweet, and tastes, and usually smells, of apples. Commercially produced applejack may be composed of apple brandy diluted with grain spirits, but what Mustang is drinking is pure applejack.


	8. Playing Doctor

**Descent**

**Chapter Eight**

**Playing Doctor**

"Ouch! That fucking hurts you know!" Ed yelled as Roy pulled another shard of glass out of his hand.

Roy smiled benignly at his young patent; the alcohol he'd consumed earlier helping him feel more than relaxed. "Well, perhaps you should have thought about that before you attacked the mirror," he replied as he placed the shard into a bowl. They'd need the pieces to transmute the mirror back together. Or rather, _Ed_ would need the shard when he fixed the mirror.

"Your bedside manner stinks, colonel…." the blond mumbled.

Roy raised an eyebrow and let a crooked smile creep onto his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered, again, if he had drank too much. He looked down at Ed's hand, which he held in one of his. The skin was shredded around the knuckles. He'd plucked out most of the stray pieces of mirror that had gotten into the wound.

Tenderly, Roy moved his other hand to lightly caress Ed's fingers. "Well, Edward…" he said softly. "I suppose that's true, but I'm much better _in_ bed than _beside_ it."

'_Roy Mustang, you are making a total ass out of yourself,' _his mind told him in the voice of Maes Hughes. This thought, however, didn't make it past the haze in his brain to connect with any part of his mind that cared.

When he looked up, Ed's eyes were wide and his face was an impressive shade of pink. When their eyes met, the younger alchemist turned his head to face the wall.

Roy's smile broadened and he turned back to inspecting the cuts. He found two more pieces of glass, but when he pulled them out Ed didn't make a sound. The silence didn't last as he poured disinfectant on the wound.

When Ed made a sharp hissing sound, Roy looked up and watched as the teen squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging. When the blond finally opened his eyes, he glared at his makeshift doctor and yelled, "You're enjoying this aren't you, you bastard?"

Instead of answering, the colonel reached into the small first aid kit and pulled out the bandaging. _Yes, I am enjoying this... Enjoying the chance to feel your skin under my fingers... I'd love to feel more than your hand though..._

He looked up at Ed's face for a moment and wondered what his subordinate thought about him. The teen had seemed to take comfort in his embrace last night, and that morning he'd looked like he wanted more of that comfort…

Roy began to slowly wrap the bandage around the small wounded hand as he thought.

Was it just comfort in general that Ed sought, or was it comfort from him? Roy shook his head. He really was conceited… Ed had never shown any inclination that he cared for him like that.

He frowned at the bandage as he tried to put his thoughts together.

It seemed that perhaps Ed just needed comfort, and Roy was just in the right place at the right time… Not that he minded, he was more than happy to comfort him, but he wondered if the teen would take any kind of comfort that came his way…

He felt his breath quicken as he thought about the possibilities. Ed was young and inexperienced, as well as in need of solace… would it be his fault if they just happened to share a few close nights together? It would be good for him to experience different things…

_Yes, it _would_ be your fault. You're older, wiser. You know better. _Maes's voice, the voice of reason, told him. _Think of your career! Are you willing to risk your career on a night or two of pleasure? Besides, Ed is too young for you. _Roy firmly pushed the voice way. Ed wasn't too young for him at all!

_Well... maybe a little... _Roy thought vaguely, as if his brain was trying to claw its way through the numb stupor and remind him of some of the reasons he hadn't made a move on the young blond already.

Finishing with the bandage, Roy let go of Ed's hand and said, "Better?"

Ed held up the hand and examined it closely before answering. "Yeah, I guess it will do until someone with real medical skill can do something with it."

"Good," Roy said, handing him the bowl of shards. "Now go fix the mirror."

* * *

Ed stepped into the bathroom and looked around before dumping the glass pieces Mustang had plucked from his hand onto the floor. Setting the bowl near the sink, Ed lifted his bandaged hand and looked at it.

'_Well, Edward... I suppose that's true, but I'm much better in bed than beside it'_

He felt himself flush again. Could Mustang know about his attraction to him? Ed didn't think so, but… He moved his automail hand to touch his fingers where the dark haired man had, then held both hands up; examining them side by side.

In disgust, he dropped his arms. No. If the colonel knew, if he even suspected, he'd probably throw Ed out on the street… and… and… and even if he _did_ know… if he did know, then Ed could only assume that womanizing bastard was teasing him with that remark; dangling a carrot he'd never get, out in front of his nose.

After all, no one could possibly find _his_ body, ruined as it was with the automail, attractive. No one could find someone who beat up their own younger brother worth caring about…

At the thought of Al, Ed felt the sick feeling in his stomach return. _I'm such a horrible older brother... _Ed thought. _First, it's my fault Al loses his body; then when he gets it back I... I..._ He tried to push the thoughts and the pain away; tried to concentrate on what he was about to do.

Slapping his hands roughly together, Ed made the circle that would allow his transmutation, then held his hands out, touching the broken mirror. In moments the glass looked as it had before its unfortunate meeting with Ed's fist.

When he stepped back to look at his work, wood crunched under his automail foot. Ed turned and looked down at the mess Mustang had made. It would take Ed less than thirty seconds to fix the door, while it would probably take the dark eyed man close to ten minutes since he would need to sweep _all_ the wood and ashes into a pile then draw the transmutation circle.

A nice person would save the other man the trouble… but then, Edward Elric wasn't feeling particularly nice at the moment.

* * *

Al woke up slowly, first becoming aware of the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window, then of the breathing of another person. Alarmed, he quickly opened his eyes and reflexively tried to sit up.

"No don't!" a female voice said anxiously.

Even without the warning, the pain would have stopped his hurried movements anyway. Lying back down, Al let his eyes settle on the owner of the voice, then smiled.

"I'd ask if I was dead, but the pain assures me that I'm not."

Winry folded her arms and shook her head. "What makes you say something like that?"

Sighing as he looked at her, he said, "Because…you're so beautiful…I thought you were an angel…"

He watched in amazement as she turned her head away; trying to hide a small smile and the fact that her cheeks were turning a delicate shade of red. He had only said it because it was exactly what he was thinking. He hadn't expected that kind of a reaction out of her. Truthfully, he felt slightly embarrassed at having said it out loud. If he hadn't just woke up, and had been thinking more clearly, most likely he wouldn't have said it at all. It just sort of slipped out…

But now that he had said it, and had seen that she seemed pleased with it, he'd have to say it again to her. He loved to see her smile, especially when it was because of something he had said or done.

"I was just checking up on you," Winry said softly. She hooked some of her long blonde hair behind her ear and looked down. "What _is_ all this?"

He made to sit up again, more slowly this time. When the blonde mechanic saw what he was doing, she hurried to his side, helping him. "Thanks," he said sheepishly. He _could _sit up by himself, but why should he when he could get her to touch him while she helped?

Al looked around at the mess on the floor and winced. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, especially while everything was still scattered around. Truthfully he was surprised that she wasn't nagging at him to get it cleaned up. He supposed it was one of the perks of being injured.

"Well?" she asked.

"Alchemy stuff," he said simply.

"Well duh Alphonse! But what about those dolls over there. Where did they come from, and why are half of them all… all… ruined?"

"Well, I made the dolls, it just seemed better to use something that had a human type form after I came up with..." he cut off his words, shrugged and looked at his hands. The last arrays he had painted there were still visible so they'd probably still work. "Toss me a doll?" he asked her.

Wordlessly she picked up one of the whole dolls and tossed it over to him. Al lifted it off the bedspread and examined it, then looked up at her. "Just a doll; nothing special or unique about it."

She nodded.

Al laid the non-descript doll down, looked at her again with a little boy grin, then clapped his hands together. Truthfully, it wasn't necessary that he clap his hands together, not with the circles drawn there, but Ed did it and Al, sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously, had always tried to be like the older brother he'd looked up to since he was little. Al put a hand on the doll and felt…something…drain from him; felt a piece of himself transfer over to the doll.

He watched the little doll get up and walk over to the edge of the bed, near Winry. The blonde was staring, wide-eyed at the doll. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Well, I thought if there was some sort of… I don't know… multiple purpose array, then I could, you know, paint it on some gloves or something and then I could be kinda like…" his voice trailed off.

"Be kinda like Ed?" she asked quietly.

He swallowed hard and nodded. It hurt to think of his older brother. The mood swings… the fights… he had been so _difficult_ to be around. Al supposed he had thought that everything would just magically get better if he just let Ed be, but obviously it didn't. If only he could have known, if only he could have said something, or done something…

He felt so guilty…

No one knew his brother like he did. He should have known something was wrong, _really wrong._ He should have known!

"I understand Al," Winry said sympathetically. "But… what does that have to do with those ruined dolls?"

Her question pulled him from his thoughts and he gave a small chuckle. "While I was testing out different arrays I stumbled upon something." He pointed at the doll for effect.

Confusion filled Winry's eyes.

"It seems that my soul is easily detachable.(1)"

Comprehension dawned on her and she looked back down at the little doll, which was now waving cheerfully at her. "You mean… this doll..?"

"Has a small piece of my soul. How long the effect lasts varies."

He didn't know how to describe this loss and regaining of himself. When he did it, he was aware of things around him in a totally different way. If he concentrated he could see, and experience things from where his soul had transferred to, and yet he was still aware of himself in his own body. It was strange to be able to see things from two different perspectives at the same time.

"So that piece…it comes back to you?"

He nodded, another thing that was hard to describe. One minute his soul was partially with his body, partially with whatever he had transferred it to, then it was back, and he felt whole again.

"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.

Al smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. It's kinda like putting your hand in a jar that has only air."

She nodded, showing that she understood.

"As for the destroyed dolls, well... I'm trying to come up with the best array for transferring a soul that is still usable for other tasks. Those dolls are just unfortunate casualties."

There was silence in the room while Al let her absorb what he'd said. He watched her as she frowned, lost in thought. Not wanting to see her sad, Al said, "So… what's for dinner, oh beautiful angel?"

* * *

Ed looked down at Mustang and sighed. When he'd come back from fixing the mirror he had expected to see the man cleaning up the supplies from the medical kit. Instead, he'd found him asleep on the couch. That was almost six hours ago. How long was he going to sleep?

He shook his head and looked around. It was late and he wanted to get some rest, but the stupid colonel was asleep on his couch. Okay… So it wasn't _his_ couch. But still…

Where was he supposed to sleep now? He sure as hell wasn't going to sleep on the floor. He eyed the carpet. Well, he _could_ sleep on the floor. It was a lot better than where he'd been sleeping for the last week since he left Rizembool.

Where he'd slept before Mustang found him…

He looked again at his commanding officer. Ed had never seen him sleep before… He looked so…peaceful…laying there on the couch.

Mustang had picked him up and taken him to his own place. _He could have just had Hawkeye take me over to the dorms..._ Ed thought.

Here was the man who had been the bane of Ed's existence for so many years, and yet after one stupid dream, all Ed could do was fantasize about him. He frowned. He'd never felt so attracted to anyone or thought about anyone else in the way that he'd thought about Roy Mustang. He couldn't say that he was 'in love' with the man. Truthfully he didn't really like the guy at all!

He was a stupid, arrogant, bastard that couldn't stop trying to pull Ed around on strings like a puppet; a womanizing, boot licking, brown nosing, pyromaniac who thought he knew everything…

_But then_… Ed thought of the previous night when Mustang had held him tightly in his arms and whispered comforting words to him. _He_ is_ letting me stay here for now..._

His eyes wandered over the older man's body, then back to his face. _Why you? _Ed wondered silently. _Why do I feel nervous around you? Why do I care what you think about me? Why do I get a fucking hard-on thinking about you? Why do I think about having you hold me and touch me and kiss me? Why don't I have these kinds of thought about me and Winry, or me and _any_ other chick? Am I abnormal? Is there something... _wrong_... with me? Why can't I just forget about you?_

Ed looked at the front door. _Maybe I should just leave... __just walk out that door and never return..._ he thought, but made no move to do so.

Ed's gaze returned to the sleeping man. He _did_ look peaceful… _and_ sexy as hell. The normally put together colonel looked disheveled in his sweats and tee-shirt, stubble was beginning to show on his normally clean shaven face and his fine, black hair was messy and unkempt.

What he really wanted to do was reach out a hand and touch the man, but he didn't dare. What if he woke him? What excuse could he give?

No. He'd better just look…

But he'd been looking at the colonel most of the day, when he hadn't been reading some of the books that had been lying around. It was late, and he was tired…

Suddenly, an idea came to him. He left the living room, turning off the light as he went and headed toward Mustang's room. The door had been closed all day, and Ed hadn't felt right about going in there, but now…

_There's a perfectly good bed in there that isn't being used,_ his mind told him.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to decide. To open the door, or not to open the door…

His fingers tapped lightly on the doorknob as he thought. He didn't want his commanding officer angry at him. Staying at Mustang's house was much more comfortable than being at the dorms, but even if the man _did_ get angry with him for snooping around in his room and sleeping on his bed, did it really matter? He was going to resign from the military soon anyway, so it wasn't like he'd have to deal with the man for very long. And if the dark haired man kicked him out? Well, Ed could always stay in the dorms until he got his resignation paperwork done…

Curiosity, and the thought that he really didn't have that much to lose, prompted him to turn the knob and open the door. The room was dark, but a soft glow from the window lit the room to a point that Ed could see what was in there.

The bed, a queen size Ed guessed, was directly under the window. Two nightstands stood on each side. A telephone sat on one of the nightstands and right beside it lay Roy's silver pocket watch. Ed walked toward the nightstand and stared at the watch. Gingerly he picked it up and held it close to see it better in the dim light.

The silver was scratched in many places and there were a few dings in the raised military symbol on the front. Ed had seen the watch maybe once or twice, but he had never noticed. Perhaps it was because he had never seen it up close, and of course the scrapes and dents weren't all that noticeable, not unless you were really looking. But despite all that, the watch looked like it had been well cared for.

Ed turned it over in his hands a few times. He had an overwhelming urge to open it and look inside, but in the end he couldn't do it and set the watch back on the nightstand. Ed could remember how angry he had been when Winry had looked inside his watch without permission.(2) Of course, not everyone kept such personal things inside their watches, but still Ed thought it would be wrong.

There was a door next to the side of the bed where Ed was standing and he figured it must be the closet. Next to the closet were two large bookshelves. Ed walked toward them and scanned the titles. Almost all of them were alchemy books, although there were some that didn't have titles, so he couldn't tell what they were.

Curious, Ed pulled out an old looking book without a title, and opened it near the middle. The pages were filled with hand written scribbles, notes, and arrays. He flipped through more of the pages. Some of the arrays had been erased and redrawn many times; others had just been scribbled out. Much of it was guesswork; nonsense that would never work in a million years, but there were quite a few good ideas too. Not every alchemist could come up with their own arrays. It took a lot of time and effort, and most alchemists were happy with what was already available.

Ed let his eyes wander the bookcases and saw that there were quite a few unmarked books. The young alchemist was surprised that someone as lazy as Mustang seemed to be would take the time to try creating his own arrays.

Shutting the book, Ed put it back and moved on. On the wall the door was on, the wall parallel to the foot of the bed, there was a desk with mounds of papers on it. _I guess he really does make himself at home while at work._ He thought wryly, thinking of how messy the colonel's desk could sometimes be.

Sitting on top of an open alchemy book was a pair of reading glasses. Ed picked them up and studied them. The ear pieces were a bronze color and they attached directly to the lenses. The lenses were connected by a curved piece of metal, but the glasses had no frames. Ed tried to envision Mustang with glasses on, but couldn't seem to get the picture in his head.

He laid the glasses back down. At the back of the desk sat a few picture frames. One was a group picture that had been taken when he had first joined the military. It had been right after Mustang had gotten transferred to East City. Ed could remember it clearly. Havoc had tried, and failed miserably, to get Ed into one of Fuery's military uniforms. As short as the Master Sergeant was, Ed, twelve at the time, had been much shorter and he had felt that wearing one of the smallest uniforms available, and not having it fit, would have been too embarrassing. In the photo, Breda, Havoc and Mustang all looked amused, while Hawkeye and Falman looked tolerant, and Fuery had looked harassed. Ed for his part just looked pissed off and sulky; mostly from having to tolerate so many short jokes that day.(3)

There was another picture, this one of Mustang and Hughes. Ed had seen the same one in Hughes's house. It was when the two of them had joined the military. Hughes had once said that they had grown up and had joined the military together. The next picture on Mustang's desk seemed to confirm it.

Ed picked up the last photo on the desk and peered at it. It was a picture of Mustang and Hughes when they were younger. The two boys in the picture looked to be about thirteen or fourteen. Mustang, the shorter of the two, was wearing a muted blue, button up shirt. He was looking at the camera as if he was uncomfortable, and he had a slight blush on his cheeks. The younger, and taller, Hughes was draped over the shorter boy with a big grin on his face. The shirt he wore was lime green and he had his hand held out to the camera, two fingers in the air.

_Hughes... what a doofus..._ Ed thought fondly, before setting the frame back on the desk. He stood there, staring at the photo for a long time, fascinated by how the man who had dominated his fantasies looked when he was younger.

Finally he stepped away from the desk and walked to the wall on the other side of the bed. There were also two large bookcases on this side of the room as well; just as full with books as the other ones had been.

Ed turned around and stared at the bed. To say that the bed was made would be an overstatement. The covers had been pulled up, but that was all. He walked over and stood beside it. The blanket was a light grey and the sheets underneath were white. Ed tried to imagine the colonel laying there asleep.

His heart beat faster thinking that he was going to sleep where Mustang usually slept. Ed climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, feeling the fabric under his hand. Mustang slept and dreamt and probably jerked off in this bed.

The thought was arousing and Ed laid down on the bed on his stomach; letting his hardening arousal push against the mattress. The blanket smelled slightly of cologne and ethanol(4). He breathed in, letting the scent, Mustang's scent, fill him. He clenched the blanket in his fists and ground his hard-on into the bed; imagining that it was the colonel under him.

His heavy breathing sounded loud in his ears, and tried to quiet it. He _knew_ he would be out on the street in no time if Mustang woke up and found him this way.

In frustration Ed turned over on his back and laid an arm across his eyes. He was suddenly angry; angry with Mustang and angry with himself. Why was the man being so fucking _nice_? Why didn't he just have Hawkeye take him back to the dorms?

_Why don't I just leave?_ Ed thought miserably.

He could leave. That was the surest way to keep Mustang from finding out about how Ed felt. He should leave. Leave, and get the paperwork done as quickly as possible. Then he'd be out of the military and away from the colonel.

Then he could just forget…

_That's what I'm going to do,_ he thought. _I'm going to leave..._ But as much as he thought it, his body didn't move.

* * *

1) Obviously the idea is from the movie. They never expounded on _how_ Al found out he could do such a thing, only that he _could. _I figured that even if this story takes a different route than the series, it's not unlikely that Al would have figured how to do this eventually.

2) Episode Seventeen

3) This scene is from my imagination, not from an actual picture I've seen. You'll notice Hughes isn't in the picture. That is because he's in Central, not in East City. The second picture is actually in the series and the third is also from my imagination.

4) Ethanol, also known as 'ethyl alcohol' or 'grain alcohol' is a flammable, colorless chemical compound, one of the alcohols that is most often found in alcoholic beverages. Generally it is just referred to as alcohol. Ed, being a scientist (alchemy being part of the sciences) and having never drank before, would most likely think of the chemical in such a way and wouldn't instantly put it to the fact that it comes from something Mustang has been drinking. At least this is how I see it.


	9. Innocence Lost

**Descent**

**Chapter Nine**

**Innocence Lost**

Roy opened his eyes, but saw only the outline of pieces of furniture through the darkness. He blinked. Hadn't it just been afternoon? And why was he laying on the couch? Groaning, Roy sat up and put his head in his hands. He had a slight headache, his mouth was dry and he felt slightly nauseated.

He shook his head and thought hard. He'd cooked the potatoes… then had some sort of fight with Ed, then he'd…

Roy groaned as he remembered the applejack. He hated it when he lost control and drank too much. He hadn't drunk so much as to have gotten raving drunk, but it had been more than what he should have had, and he had done it because he was emotional…

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _

That explained the headache, nausea and dry mouth, but at least the hangover was small. He'd had worse in comparison. He probably could have avoided this one completely if he had eaten something and maybe drank some water…

Too late now.

As he continued to think back through the day, embarrassment filled him. Blowing the bathroom door in was way too… excessive… and Fullmetal…

'_Well, Edward… I suppose that's true, but I'm much better in bed than beside it'_

Roy covered his eyes and hoped to hell that the kid had been too emotional himself to catch onto the fact that his commanding officer had been… less than sober... He hoped the boy wouldn't remember those words…

Roy lifted his head and looked around. He couldn't see Ed anywhere, but of course, it _was _dark…

_Maybe he's laying on the floor somewhere..._

He thought about turning on a light, then dismissed the idea. If Ed was asleep, Roy didn't want to wake him. He stood slowly and cautiously made his way out of the living room, to the short hall, then to his bedroom.

There was slightly more light in his bedroom, given the light from the streetlamp outside, and in the dim glow he could make out Ed's form lying sprawled out diagonally on the bed. He could see the young alchemist's hair spread out over the blanket; the golden strands seemed to glow faintly in the muted light.

Roy sighed, not sure what to do now… go back to the couch he supposed, but then he saw Ed's head lift and turn toward him. After a moment the boy sat up.

"You're awake," Ed said quietly.

"Yeah…"

"When I came back from fixing the mirror you were asleep on the couch. Since you never woke up I just thought I'd sleep in here or something, but I haven't really been able to get any sleep," Ed said quickly in embarrassment. There was a pause, then, "I'll go out on the couch now, since you're awake."

He thought Ed sounded dejected and depressed at those last words. Roy stepped into the room, walked to the bed, and looked down at him. "You can stay here if you want," he offered softly.

There was silence in the room for several moments before Ed answered. "Well… I don't want to kick you out of your bed…"

Roy shook his head. "No really, I've slept on a couch plenty of times. I don't mind doing it again."

When Ed didn't say anything, Roy turned and started walking back toward the door.

* * *

_He's not mad?_ Ed thought in surprise. _He's going to let me sleep here? But... why...?_

Not only did he feel mortified about being found on Mustang's bed, but he felt uncomfortable at the man just _letting _him take the bed. It just seemed so wrong Ed supposed that if he continued to insist the colonel take the bed back, Mustang would keep pushing for Ed to stay there. He cast his mind about for some better solution.

Of course, he could just refuse to continue sleeping on the bed, but that would mean taking the floor, since Mustang would probably be just as stubborn and still sleep on the couch. Besides, it just seemed to be such a childish thing to do.

Then there was the other option, but there was no way Mustang would go for it.

_But what if he does?_ Ed thought nervously. He felt his breath quicken at the thought, and wondered if he'd get _any _sleep at all with that arrangement. He tried to push the thought away. It didn't matter. The colonel would never agree to such a thing anyway. But it never hurt to offer…

* * *

"Well… we… we can share if you want… I mean, so that neither of us have to sleep on the couch," the last part was spoken quickly, and after it was said silence filled the room again.

Roy turned slowly, and peered at Ed through the darkness. He couldn't make out the boy's face in the shadows, but he didn't need to. By the tone of his voice and how he had spoken, it was obvious that he wanted Roy to stay with him.

Still he hesitated.

_Of course, that doesn't mean he's looking to get laid,_ he thought. _What if..._ He stopped that line of thought. Too many 'what ifs'… too little time.

"Sure, Fullmetal… if you don't mind…" he said, trying to sound casual.

To this, Ed's body seemed to flinch and he sat frozen where he was for a moment before moving his body to one side of the bed, leaving an empty space. Roy walked toward the bed. As he got closer, he could see the young alchemist more clearly.

Roy stopped, thinking of a way to 'test the waters', then said, "Uh… I usually sleep in just my boxers… but I can stay dressed if it would make you feel more comfortable…" _I can stay dressed if you aren't interested in me, _he thought.

There was another moment of silence. "Oh… well… it doesn't really bother me… so… well, you know… if you want too…"

Roy felt Ed's eyes on him as he pulled off his shirt, his dog tags snagging on the collar for a moment before they fell back onto his chest with a noisy clatter. The sweatpants came off just as quickly before he slid under the covers.

Ed immediately scrambled under the blanket as well, then lay flat on his back staring up at the ceiling again. It was obvious that Ed was nervous, so Roy laid on his back as well, and said, "I really don't mind sleeping on the couch if you'd rather."

Truthfully he did mind now that he was actually in bed, but wanted another assurance that his thinking was on track. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Ed cried "NO!" so quickly and forcefully that Roy had to smile. This was a development Roy thought would have only existed in his dreams.

"I mean… no… it's totally fine..." Ed amended rather sheepishly.

Roy turned on his side to face the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Then relax. I'm not going to bite you," he said; and thought, _not unless you want me to..._ But he kept his mouth shut on that point.

Ed, still looking up, swallowed then lifted his hand, the automail one, as if to touch Roy's hand, but before the metal could touch his skin, the hand stopped and Ed lifted it in front of his face. Roy watched as the boy's face became sad, then angry. The teen made a fist and pounded it on the bed before turning roughly away from the colonel; shrugging Roy's hand off in the process.

He watched Ed's back for several minutes, trying to puzzle out what could be going on in the boy's mind. It now was obvious to Roy that Ed _wanted_ to be with him, but this wasn't exactly how someone acted when they were getting what they wanted. It didn't take him long, thinking about what had just happened, to come up with a theory.

He laid his hand, again, on Ed's shoulder. The skin felt warm under his fingers. The teen tried shaking it off again, but Roy kept his grip firm.

"Fuck off!" Ed said angrily.

"Turn around, Fullme…" A pause. "Ed."

"No…" came the whispered response.

"Ed…" Roy repeated softly, then gently started pulling on the boy's shoulder.

There was resistance at first, then he turned easily back onto his back. Roy got up on one elbow and leaned over the short alchemist. Ed turned his head away, but Roy slipped his hand under Ed's face and turned it back toward him and took note of the unshed tears in his eyes.

Roy laid his arm across the boy's chest, his hand on the automail arm and watched as Ed looked away in embarrassment. "Is this what's bothering you?" he asked. When Ed made no reply, he said, "Because it doesn't bother me."

A tear made a line down Ed's cheek as he turned his head to stare up at him. "It doesn't?"

Roy smiled slightly and shook his head.

"Well, it bothers me!" Ed yelled, suddenly angry. "I hate it! I hate that I can't feel anything with it, hate the way it makes me look; like I'm not real or something! I hate what I can do with it; what I'm capable of! I hate this fucking automail. I hate this fucking body! I hate my fucking _life_!" Suddenly the raging fire seemed to go out and Ed whispered. "I just wish I was dead."

Roy frowned silently down at the young alchemist who was now looking away again, tears flowing freely down his face. He was almost afraid to speak. Ed had let him in on a large amount of private information. If he handled this wrong it could be a total disaster.

He moved his hand to cup Ed's cheek and brought the boy's head back to face him. Roy waited until Ed moved his eyes to look up at him before he spoke.

"Ed. There's _nothing_ wrong with your body. You _are_ real." He rubbed his thumb on Ed's cheek and whispered, "You're beautiful…"

Ed stared up into Roy's eyes and blinked, making a tear run down his cheek. "You're lying," he whispered.

Roy shook his head. "No. It's true, Ed." He sighed. "I know you've had it hard, but you can only move forward."

The delicate features of Ed's face crumpled. "You don't know… you don't know what I've done… I don't _want_ to go forward…"

"You're right," Roy said. "I don't know everything you've done, and I won't know unless you tell me. What I _do_ know is that we all do things that we regret. I know how it feels to do… despicable… things. I know what it's like to want to forget, to want to end it all."

When Ed didn't respond, Roy decided it was time to change the subject to something a little less depressing. Heart pounding in nervous apprehension, he lowered his head so that his lips were right next to Ed's ear and whispered. "You know what I think?" Ed shook his head. "I think you need to relax," he said, then softly kissed the tender skin below Ed's ear and smiled when he heard a small gasp.

"I'll make you forget all your troubles." _At least for tonight. _"I want you to just lay back and enjoy the experience," he said, and ran his tongue lightly along the edge of Ed's ear until it reached the place were it connected with his face.

At this, Ed's body stiffened, and he whispered, "Colonel…?"

"Shhh" Roy hushed before gently tickling the inside of the boy's ear with the tip of his tongue. He took the earlobe into his mouth, giving it a mild suck before he pulled his face away, letting the loose skin pop out lightly between his lips.

He could feel Ed's chest begin to rise and fall as his breathing quickened, but the boy's body was still tense. "_Relax_," Roy whispered again, and he was relieved when Ed did.

Roy tightened his grip on the automail, shifting his weight on his other arm while bringing himself onto his knees for better leverage. His metal dog tags clattered against Ed's arm as he bent his head lower and touched his lips to the place on Ed's neck that was right under the jaw and began planting slow, hot, breathy kisses down to Ed's collar bone.

A moan escaped from the teen as Roy slowly, and deliberately, let his tongue drag wetly down the line of the bone to the hollow of Ed's throat, then gently nipped at the skin with his lips before raising his head to look into Ed's large, round eyes.

Ed's breathing was coming in short, panting breaths and his face was a brilliant shade of red. Golden orbs seemed to glow in the dimly lit room as he stared back at Roy with the eyes of the inexperienced.

Everything was new for him and, in a way, Roy envied him.

Without taking his eyes from Ed's, Roy slid his hand lightly over the automail, the steel cool against his touch. When he reached the place where the limb was attached to Ed's skin, Roy gently brushed his fingers over the scared tissue. Ed took in a deep breath and let his eyes dart in that direction, then back.

By then, he had gone on, moving his hand gently up Ed's neck, brushing the fine hairs with his fingers but not touching the skin. When he reached the spot where the thick, blond hair attached to Ed's head, Roy pressed the pads of his fingers close to the skin as he continued, letting the hair run through his fingers as he slid his hand between Ed's head and the pillow.

Keeping his eyes on Ed's, Roy began to move his head forward, but paused momentarily as a wave of nervousness washed over him. _Too late to rethink this,_ he thought, and began again, bringing his face close enough to Ed's that their noses touched. The short alchemist's eyes grew even larger and he swallowed hard. Roy smiled a little before closing his eyes, turning his head slightly, and lightly pressing his lips against Ed's.

Roy had always imagined that Ed's lips would be soft and velvety, but the real Ed's lips were slightly rough. This gave him the impression that the boy didn't exactly fawn over himself, but rather did only the necessary things to keep himself groomed and sanitary. His lips pulled into an involuntary smile at the new piece of private information.

Roy lifted his head a bit, releasing Ed from the brief kiss for a moment before running the tip of his tongue along the lips of Ed's open, gasping mouth. Then he pulled Ed's head forward as he slid his tongue deftly into the damp cavity of his mouth, kissing the boy with hot, urgent need.

At first he got little response, but it didn't take long before Ed tentatively began to kiss him back; hesitation quickly becoming lost in desire. Roy felt a touch on his back from Ed's real hand, and the contact flared his arousal like oil to fire.

When Roy finally broke the kiss by sliding his hand out from beneath Ed's head and letting it drop back to the pillow, they were both panting heavily. Immediately, Roy slid his now free hand under the too big shirt Ed was wearing and brushed his hand over the smooth skin of the Ed's torso before sitting back on his knees and grabbing the shirt with his other hand, pulling it toward the teen's head.

Ed, child prodigy that he was, looked at him in confusion for only a second before lifting his arms to make it easier for Roy to unburden himself of this flimsy barricade between them.

Roy leaned down and began running his tongue wetly over the nipples on Ed's chest, making the teen moan as he absentmindedly tossed the shirt between the two pillows. He took one of the small nubs in his mouth and ran his tongue around it while sliding one of his hands down Ed's stomach and under the band of the sweats. The boy's breathing was hard and erratic, and was accompanied by auditory exclamations of pleasure.

He trailed kisses across to the other nipple as he ran his hand down the inside of the boy's real thigh, skirting his sex completely. Ed whimpered and, Roy could feel the young alchemist trembling beneath his touch. He lifted his head to look at Ed's face as he moved his hand to the teen's penis, taking the shaft firmly in his grip.

Ed's eyes, closed when Roy had looked at him, popped open and he gasped. It took only a couple of strokes before he pushed his hips up hard, his whole body tensing, eyes and mouth opening wide, fists clenching tightly on the bed sheets.

Roy felt spasms in Ed's hard erection and a second later he felt wet stickiness drip onto his hand. He smiled at Ed, whose body was only beginning to relax and whose breathing was still harsh and jagged.

Ed grinned and whispered, "Wow… oh my… wow… that was… so… _amazing._"

Roy smiled at the complement and said, "Better than flying solo, isn't it." _And there's still so much more than this..._

Ed nodded emphatically, and watched as Roy pulled his hand out from beneath the sweats. When he put one of his fingers in his mouth, Ed pulled a face.

"What?" Roy murmured.

"That's… just…" Ed paused as if trying to find the right word, then said, "gross."

Roy's eyebrows raised in amusement. "You mean to tell me you've never wondered how you taste?" Ed shook his head quickly. "Well you should try it at least once," he said, holding his hand out.

"Oh, fuck no," Ed said adamantly, and turned his head away.

Shrugging, Roy slid his boxers down and lay on his back; spreading the remaining wetness on his hand over his own penis, which was now hard and begging for attention. There was a rustling beside him. Roy glanced ever and saw that Ed had rolled over onto his side, facing toward him. The teen was looking down at Roy's handy work with unfeigned interest. It occurred to him that Ed had probably never watched someone give themselves a hand job before.

With practiced ease, Roy slid his slick hand up and down and around his erection. He could feel himself getting harder, and he consciously had to make himself slow down. Roy didn't want to finish too quickly; he wanted to go slow, so that he could watch Ed's face longer. The young alchemist was obviously enjoying himself, and that pleased Roy to no end.

A thought came to him and he moved his hand away and to Ed. "Spit," he commanded, holding his palm open. The short teen looked at Roy, his brow crinkling, then moved his gaze down. For a moment he peered at the outstretched hand, then complied. "Again," Roy demanded feeling incredibly turned on by the warm, slimy liquid in his hand. Ed made to spit again, but this time it caught on his lip and the saliva began dribbling down his chin. Ed blushed in embarrassment. Roy grinned slightly, took his thumb and wiped the spittle off of Ed's skin, then softly kissed the boy before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

Bringing his hand back, Roy began spreading the saliva over his hard penis. He liked the thought of using more of Ed's body fluids to take care of himself. He'd love to have Ed help out, but decided not to broach the subject given the boy's injured hand.

Another time perhaps, but for now though, he was ready to quit holding himself back.

* * *

Ed eyes widened involuntarily as he watched Mustang's hips rise, slightly pushing into his hand; which had begun to speed up. He swallowed and licked his lips. His heart was racing, and he breathed in and out quickly.

The colonel's own breathing was erratic and although he was staring fixedly at Ed, his eyes were beginning to take on a glazed look. His lips parted and Ed looked down to see Mustang's hand make two spasmodic jerks, then stop. The man's hips were pushing his erection hard into his fist. Milky white liquid squirted up and dropped onto Mustang's hand.

Ed moved his gaze back to Mustang's face and he saw that the man was now staring at the ceiling with a relieved look. His breath was coming out in long drawn out bursts of air and Ed could see a few beads of sweat dot the man's forehead.

The colonel turned his head toward Ed and brought his hand up, licking a part of the flesh that was covered in the filmy stickiness. Ed pinched the bridge of his nosed and shook his head. It was just so… gross…

He heard Mustang chuckle. "Don't tell me you don't want to taste it because it's white..."

Ed glared at the other man, but the colonel didn't seem to mind. For a moment Mustang looked around, then grabbed the shirt Ed had been wearing, and used it to clean himself. When he was finished, Mustang lifted the blanket, and Ed scooted in close.

Wrapped in Mustang's arms, Ed felt warm and secure. For now, at least, his thoughts didn't trouble him, and for the first time in a week he was finally able to drop off into an untroubled sleep.


	10. Cookies

**Descent**

**Chapter Ten**

**Cookies**

Ed snuggled deeper under the covers as his mind slowly drifted into consciousness. He'd slept great; better than he could remember sleeping in a long time, or perhaps he'd never slept that soundly. He wasn't sure. The mattress underneath him seemed to conform to his body and he thought that he could stay there all day, except for the fact that sunlight was shining in his face. He turned over to move out of the shaft of light, then opened his eyes in surprise.

He was alone in the bed.

The… bed…?

Ed shot up to a sitting position, the covers falling into his lap and exposing his bare chest. The bed! Mustang's bed! _Oh shit!_ he thought, the previous night flooding back into his head.

He… and Mustang…

His face flooded with heat as an image of Mustang sitting smugly at his desk came to Ed's mind, then switched with an image of how he had looked so tender…

"Oh fuck…" he breathed and put a hand to his mouth. He had dreamed about something like that, fantasized about it even, but to have it really happen…

His mind worked to comprehend it all. Him and Mustang… Mustang and him…. His first time doing…_anything_… sexual with someone else… and it had been with a _guy_! Not that he had been having fantasies about girls anyway, but… a _guy_… and _Mustang_... The colonel had even been the one to start it!

He dropped the hand and began chewing on his bottom lip. Now that he thought about it, the man _had_ been acting a bit strange yesterday… He had heard Hawkeye grumbling about the colonel's drinking habits on occasion, but hadn't really paid much attention. What if Mustang had been drunk and that was why he had done it? Mustang surely couldn't have done it because he liked Ed in that way… could he?

No… no way… it wouldn't make sense. Roy Mustang was the worst womanizer in the military and everyone knew it; part of the reason why they never assigned women to him anymore. Only the lieutenant stayed, and that was because she'd kick Mustang's ass if he ever tried anything on her. But then… if Mustang _had been_ drunk, he probably wasn't now…

Ed cast a worried glance at the open bedroom door. What would Mustang say? What would _he_ say to Mustang? What would happen? Would the colonel hate him? Or did they have a chance for a relationship now that the ice had been broken…

Ed dropped his head roughly into his hands. What the hell was he thinking? Mustang would _so_ hate him… He'd think it was Ed's fault, because, of course, the colonel _wasn't_ into guys and Ed was… It would be obvious since he never dated, never even talked about girls…

Tears of frustration and confusion welled up in his eyes. Mustang would probably kick him out now… He had tried hard not to let the man know how he felt… This wasn't his fault at all; it wasn't!

The worst thing was that he couldn't get the previous night out of his head. He moved his hand down below the blankets and began touching himself through the sweats. He'd woken up so fucking hard…

Despite all his worries, part of him just wanted to find Mustang and see if he wanted another go-around. Ed most certainly did. What they had done last night was so much better than any of his fantasies…

Sighing, Ed brought his hand up from the covers and ran it through his messy hair. _I'm so fucked up_… he thought, then grunted irritably when his fingers got stuck in a tangle.

Ed's head snapped up when he heard a clattering noise from the hall. After freeing his fingers, Ed nervously got out of bed, walked to the doorway, and looked out into the short hallway. At the other end where the bathroom was, Mustang was bending down to pick up a broom.

Embarrassment filled him as he thought of leaving the door for the colonel to fix. Normally he would have felt satisfaction at seeing the pompous man doing manual labor, but in light of what had happened last night… well… Ed cocked his head to one side. Actually… he _was_ kind of enjoying watching Mustang work…

Ed shook his head and decided to stop fooling himself. In truth, he felt thrilled to see the man actually do manual labor. It appealed to his vindictive side, but it was also kind of sexy…

Ed froze when Mustang looked up and caught sight of him. What should he do? He wasn't ready to talk about what happened last night… He didn't want to get kicked out just yet…

Mustang stood and leaned against the doorway, letting his eyes run up and down Ed's body. He felt some of his nervousness slip, figuring if the colonel regretted what happened last night then he wouldn't be looking at him so…

"Well, it's about time you woke up," Mustang said, interrupting Ed's thoughts, then grinned. "Sleep well?"

Ed felt his cheeks heat up. Clearing his throat, he swallowed before saying, "Yeah." He thought he would die of embarrassment when his voice fluctuated as he spoke. No…Mustang didn't seem mad at all… Maybe the other man really _did_ like him…?

Ed flushed even darker.

The colonel's grin grew bigger before he nodded, looked at the mess on the floor, then back to him with a raised eyebrow. Ed fidgeted a bit, but said nothing. After a moment of silence Mustang spoke up again.

"I see you fixed the mirror."

Ed nodded, then added, "Yeah, it only took a second to do."

Another moment of silence passed by before the colonel said matter-of-factly, "It looks good."

"Thanks."

Mustang's fingers drummed quietly on the broom handle for a moment as he stared at Ed with an expectant air.

Never taking his eyes off the colonel, Ed walked down the short hall until he reached the point where it opened up to the living room. His brain warned him that his next words would not win him any favors from the colonel, but couldn't help himself; he just needed some sense of normalcy... "That's quite a mess you have there. It will probably take you a while to clean up, so guess I'll leave you to your work."

The colonel's smile faded and a look of disappointment flashed in his eyes, but he said nothing. Before Ed could turn to go into the living room, he remembered the words Mustang had whispered to him the night before.

'_I think you need to relax... I'll make you forget all your troubles... I want you to just lay back and enjoy the experience...'_

And, of course, Ed _had_ enjoyed the experience… enjoyed it_ very_ much… And Mustang didn't seem mad at all… Perhaps…was it possible…? Ed began to feel guilty for not helping with the door; especially since it was such a little thing and would take him a fraction of the time it would take the colonel.

Feeling slightly abashed, Ed walked the rest of the way to the colonel and looked up into the man's face. It was always frustrating; having to look _up_ at people. At his current height, the top of Ed's head was _barely _above Mustang's shoulder.

Ignoring the sudden urge to hit the man just for the offense of being taller, Ed cleared his throat, looked down at the mess, and said softly, "Of course… I could… you know…" He waved his hand vaguely over the burnt wood pieces, then looked nervously back up at Mustang.

The colonel smiled. Leaning over, Mustang kissed Ed softly on the cheek, and whispered, "thanks" before moving out of the way.

* * *

Al looked out the window that faced the front porch and saw Winry standing, body pressed against the railing that surrounded the veranda. She was gazing down the dirt road that led away from the house. He frowned and looked at the door, wondering if he should go talk to her.

One week.

One week had passed since that stormy night, and in that time they had neither seen, nor heard from Ed.

He sighed, then gently put a hand to his ribs. It hurt to breathe, but otherwise he wasn't feeling too bad. He really wanted to go looking for Ed, but knew that he should wait until he was in better condition. Walking toward the door, Al rested his hand on the knob for a moment before opening it and stepping outside.

The spring air was cool and fresh. The fierce storm was gone, but large gray clouds still lingered, blocking the sun at intervals throughout the day. A slight breeze blew, and Winry's long blonde hair fluttered behind her.

_So beautiful,_ he thought; transfixed by the golden strands. Al had no doubt that he was falling for his old friend, and falling hard. He wished he knew how to stop it. Winry didn't care for him in the way he wanted her to, and probably never would. It didn't take a genius to see that she loved his brother; that she had loved Ed for a long time. Al shook his head. He knew he was only in for heartache where Winry was concerned, but knowing didn't change his feelings.

When he stood next to her near the railing, Winry murmured in a subdued voice, "You should go back inside. I don't want you to get sick."

"I feel well enough," he replied, to which she shook her head and made a soft sound of exasperation, but said nothing more on the matter.

Al looked at her with sad eyes. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he wasn't sure exactly _what_ that could be. He worried about his brother, of course he did… but Ed would be alright, and when he was ready, he'd come back. This, at least, was what Al kept telling himself. He wondered when he'd start believing it…

He took his eyes off her and looked out toward town. He couldn't imagine Winry ever watching for _his_ return the way she did now for Ed's. In a way, it hurt more than his injured ribs. He wished he could say that he wasn't jealous of his brother…

But he was.

He had given it some thought, and he supposed he'd figured out why Ed had been so angry all the time. Maybe Ed knew how Al felt about Winry and thought he was taking her away from him. Al supposed he would be upset too…

He glanced at the young mechanic, then looked away.

"It will be alright, Winry," Al said hesitantly, in a vain attempt to escape his thoughts.

She sighed at the statement, then frowned. "It's been a week, Al… where could he have gone…?"

Al could think of plenty of places his brother could have gone, but didn't say anything. If Ed didn't turn up soon, he would make some phone calls.

A cloud moved in the sun's path and the world around them became a bit darker.

"It will be fine. Don't worry about it. He'll come back," Al tried to reassure her again. He hated to see her sad.

"But, Al… What if he doesn't come back? What then? Who will fix his automail when it breaks or adjust it if he gets taller?"

Al's eyebrows knit together as he tried to think of an appropriate response. "It will be _fine_, Winry," he said again. "Even if he doesn't come back for a while, there's plenty of automail mechanics in the world, he could go to one of those."

Al stopped talking when she turned her face to him. She wore a look of hurt, unbelief. Then, without warning, she ran to the door, yanked it open and yelled, "You're such a _JERK,_ Alphonse!" before stalking through the door and slamming it shut behind her.

_What did I say? _he thought as he stood there in silence, staring in confusion at the closed door.

* * *

"You going to lay around all day?"

Ed looked up irritably from the alchemy book he was reading. Who the hell cared if he read all day? The colonel was leaning against the wall staring at him. Ed's eyes wandered over the man appreciatively. Mustang was wearing a dark red button up shirt with long sleeves, which was tucked into black slacks. Combined with his black hair and eyes, the colonel looked irresistibly attractive.

"I've never seen you wear red before," Ed said, dodging the question.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "That a compliment?"

"No," Ed growled testily and looked back at the book. He heard the other man sigh and walk toward him. Moments later the book was lifted from his hands.

"Hey!" he yelled, and looked up at the colonel from where he was laying on the couch.

"You didn't answer my question."

Ed made a sound of exasperation, then mumbled, "What's the big deal if I lay around all day or not? There's nothing else to do." _Unless you have some... ideas..._ Ed thought hopefully.

"I need to go pick up a few things from the store. You can come with me if you want."

Ed frowned in disappointment. He had hoped that perhaps Mustang might have something more… exciting… in mind for spending the day. He sat up and snatched the book from the man's hands, then flopped back down on the couch. He did kind of what to go, but taking the colonel up on his offer meant they'd either spend the time mostly in silence or Mustang would try to talk to him… he couldn't decide which would be more uncomfortable.

Mustang had been trying to get Ed into a conversation all day, but the he was afraid of what that would bring… He'd been successful in dodging any attempts for real conversation thus far, but he didn't know how long that would last. He knew the colonel wanted to know what was going on, and perhaps he had a right to know… but Ed just couldn't tell him… It was all just too much… He felt too ashamed…

_Al..._

Besides, he had already said too much last night…

Slamming the book shut, Ed pressed it close to his chest as he turned over onto his side; back toward the colonel. "No thanks. I think I'm going to take a nap. Besides, it's still stormy. I think I've had enough rain for now."

* * *

Roy looked into the basket he was carrying. Though he wasn't buying much, it was more than usual. Since he rarely ate at home, he usually didn't need to get much at the store; however, since Ed was staying with him, he thought that maybe he should buy a bit more. Normally that would be the safest policy, but the teen had hardly eaten anything since Roy had taken him in.

He tried to think if there was any other food he should pick up. When he felt satisfied that he had gotten everything, Roy headed over to the non-food section; looking around as he went. The market was almost deserted because of the storm outside. That was perfect for Roy, who was feeling very conspicuous at the moment.

When he reached the section he wanted, he looked around again, but saw no one. It wasn't as if he'd never bought stuff like this before. Usually when he did, he made a point to buy it when there were a lot of people shopping; it added to his playboy image. Today though, he felt as if everyone would know that what he was buying wouldn't be used with a woman.

Looking at the bottles on the shelf he grabbed one of the large ones and stuffed it under a loaf of bread. After a second thought, he stuffed another bottle under the bread with the first one. Where lube was concerned, more was _never_ a bad thing. Looking over at the condoms, he was a little more hesitant. Roy didn't know how far things would go with Ed, and he wanted to be prepared, just in case, but he'd never cared for condoms. He was only considering them because he thought Ed might feel more at ease with one.

_Not that Ed has to worry about wearing one himself. They don't have any his size, _Roy thought and snickered quietly. The thought was rude, and completely untrue. It was true that Ed wasn't exactly 'blessed' in that area, but considering the teen's height and body size, the proportions seemed right.

Roy picked up a box and looked it over; his good humor evaporating. The only time he'd ever used condoms was when he'd been with rentboys; he'd never used them with Maes. The thought of using protection with Ed almost seemed as if he was lowering the young alchemist to the status of a prostitute. Of course, it wasn't as if Roy thought he would catch something from Ed, and thanks to the bi-yearly health exams the military required, Roy knew that _he_ was clean.

Ed probably wouldn't care about condoms, but... He tapped his finger on the box while trying to decide, then shoving the box under the bread with the lube, quickly walked toward the casher. Better to be prepared.

As he walked out of the aisle a voice called to him and he froze. "Colonel." He looked over and saw Lieutenant Hawkeye walking toward him, basket in hand.

"Lieutenant, what brings you out on this miserable day?" he asked pleasantly, silently glad she hadn't seen him down the other aisle.

In response, she lifted the basket up for him to see. It contained a small bag of dog food, doggy treats, and a box of cookies. "Black Hayate is just about out of food, and I didn't want to chance running out during the week."

Roy grinned and said, "I didn't know dogs ate cookies."

She smiled politely at his lame joke and pointed to the register. "I was just about to check out."

He nodded. "Me too."

They talked idly about the strange eating habits of dogs while she paid for her stuff and by the time the casher began ringing up his items he had forgotten about the lube and condoms until they were pulled out.

He turned his attention to his wallet, taking a longer amount of time than usual to pull out his money. _It's no big deal,_ he told himself. _She's not going to think anything of it, not with my reputation. She's smart, but not that smart..._

"So, you and Edward have been getting along alright then," she said, completely changing the subject. It didn't sound like a question, the way she said it…

_Just an innocent question. She doesn't know..._

"Yeah, we've been getting along alright," he said, not looking at her.

"Really?" she asked in a flat tone.

He handed the money to the casher. "Yeah, well… we've gotten along alright, but…" He shook his head. Roy didn't understand what was going on with the teen. Ed wouldn't carry on a real conversation with him, even after what had happened last night, and his mood swings were worse than a woman's.

"You want to talk about it?" Hawkeye offered in a tone that she only used when she was talking to him as a friend, not a subordinate.

Roy took his change, thanked the casher, and picked up his bag. He thought on her offer for a moment. Did he want to talk about it? His first lieutenant often had great insight on things, but she also had a knack for picking up on stuff you didn't want her to.

They walked to the door of the store in silence. When he got a look outside he groaned inwardly. The rain had started up again, and it was coming down in full force. Sighing, he pointed to the bar across the street.

"How about a drink?" he asked her.

She looked hesitant, but said, "Sure. _One_ drink sounds good to me."

He felt a flash of irritation at what she said, as if she were implying that he had some sort of drinking problem. Maybe he used to, but not anymore…


	11. Advice

**Descent**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Advice**

Pinako Rockbell stood outside Winry's door and frowned. She could hear the soft sounds of sobbing within. Sighing, she knocked lightly on the door.

"Who is it?" Winry called from inside.

Pinako shook her head and smiled at the girl's attempt at sounding normal. "It's me."

"Come in."

Pinako opened the door, closed it quietly behind her, and looked around. Winry's room was never tidy. There were always screws and bolts and tools lying around. Pinako shook her head again in affection. How many times had she told the girl to keep things in their proper places?

She made her way to the bed where her grand daughter lay with her back facing the door. Winry was shaking slightly; trying hard not to show she was crying. An occasional sniffle sounded; another sign of her distress.

Pinako sat on the bed and laid a hand on Winry's back. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" she invited.

Winry shook her head. "I can't. It's stupid. It's nothing…"

"Don't be silly, child," Pinako said gently.

The young mechanic turned over onto her other side and put her arms around her grandmother. "Oh granny! Why hasn't he called?" she sobbed. "Is he ever going to come back?"

Pinako smiled sadly. She had a feeling their conversation was going to go this way. "That is a good question, Winry, but I don't know if I can answer it. That boy has always been a stubborn one."

"Doesn't he care at all about us? Doesn't he know that we're worried about him?" she cried.

Pinako gently stroked Winry's hair. "I'm sure he knows we care. If I could tell you what goes on in that boy's head, I would, but I can't," she paused, then said, "You care for him very much, don't you?"

Winry nodded and sniffled.

Pinako sighed the sigh of those who have already been through the drama of young love. All the years those two boys were roaming the country side, Winry waited for them to come home. When they did visit, it was impossible to not notice the look of adoration in her eyes for Edward.

Impossible, unless you were Edward Elric.

"What about Alphonse?" Pinako asked. "You care about him too, don't you?"

Winry looked down, and nodded.

She nodded to herself; just as she'd thought. When Al's soul had still been attached to that hunk of metal, the young mechanic had only had eyes for the older of the brothers. Pinako could only imagine that she would be the same way. After all, it would be difficult to develop romantic feelings for a suit of armor. But just as Winry's feelings for Ed had been obvious, her feelings for Al were not too hard to see either.

Pinako chuckled and thought, _That is, unless you were Alphonse Elric._

She was sure Al had noticed Winry's feelings toward his older brother each time they visited during their searching years. Pinako frowned. She was also sure that Ed had noticed Winry's recently developing feelings for Al. She could only guess that Ed's anger toward Winry had something to do with that situation.

Not because he returned Winry's feelings, Pinako had never seen that look in his eye, but because Al was spending an increasing amount of time with her, and less with him. She was sure Ed was used to having Al around him almost all the time. They had lived for each other. Now though, it was different. Alphonse was free to live his life; he didn't _need_ to be with Ed all the time.

Truly it was a sad situation.

To her aging eyes it had been obvious how much Ed had depended on Al to be there. Al had been the constant factor in his life. Pinako could only imagine the feelings of loneliness and abandonment Ed must have felt; must still be feeling.

Pinako sighed sadly. She had seen it, but done nothing. She had left it for the two boys to figure out, thinking that because of the close relationship they had always shared, things would turn out for the better without her interference. Being old didn't exempt one from being wrong, she supposed.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret," Pinako whispered.

Winry looked up expectantly.

"Alphonse cares about you too. Very much. I've seen it in his eyes, in the way he looks at you, how he treats you, how he reacts when you enter the room."

"He does?"

Pinako nodded.

Winry seemed to think on this for a moment, then said, "But… what about Ed?"

_The truth is hard,_ Pinako thought sadly, then continued. "Edward…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Winry, but I've never seen any indication that he feels that way toward you. He cares about you I'm sure, but not like that."

Winry's lower lip trembled, and Pinako squeezed her hand. "You think about it. You're a strong girl; a smart girl. You'll figure out what to do."

* * *

Ed looked up when a timid knock sounded at the door. He wasn't sure if he should open it or not since he didn't live there, but when the knock sounded again, he closed the book, walked to the door and opened it.

An old woman stood there with a bag in her hand. She looked startled for a moment, then checked the number on the door. Satisfied that she was at the right place, she said, "Is Roy here?"

Ed shook his head, and replied, "No, he went out for a while. Can I help you?"

She sighed and held up the bag. Whatever was inside made a clinking noise. "Well… I broke this plate and I was going to ask him to fix it for me."

The poor old woman looked so dejected that he said, "Well, I can fix it for you." She smiled in relief and he moved out of the way for her to step inside. "Are you his neighbor or something?" Ed asked after she gave him the bag with the broken plate in it.

"I suppose you could say that. I own these apartments and I live in the one on the end," she said, waving her hand vaguely in one direction.

Ed nodded, then set the bag on the table. He opened it, clapped his hands together, then touched the shards. When he was finished, he pulled the plate out and let her examine it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in delight. "That was so fast! You didn't even draw anything."

"That's right," Ed said smugly.

"Well thank you, young man," she patted him on the arm, then gave him a confused look and said, "Who are you anyway?"

He paused, not sure what to say, then decided on, "Just a friend of Mustang's"

At that, she smiled and exclaimed, "Oh good! I'm so glad that young man has finally found himself a friend!" Her words surprised him and he started laughing. She looked at him seriously over her spectacles. "I mean it. The only people I ever see visiting him are those military people he works with, and even then it isn't often."

Ed shook his head. "Well, I'm in the military too."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "No! Not a little boy like you."

_This woman has a death wish,_ Ed thought grimly and said in a flat tone, "I'm seventeen, and I _am_ in the military. I'm Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."

She nodded. "Oh, yes, I do remember hearing of a short alchemist with that title." Ed was about to start telling the woman off, but her next words stopped him cold. "But I had heard your brother traveled with you in a suit of armor. Is he here too?"

_Al..._

"No," he whispered.

She looked at him in concern. "Are you alright? You've gone pale."

He looked away from her and murmured, "Yeah… I guess I just don't feel well. I'm sorry."

She patted him again on the arm. "Well you should lie down young man." She walked to the door and opened it. "Thank you for fixing this plate for me, and you tell that Roy to come and visit me when he has some time, alright?" Ed nodded mutely as she shut the door behind her.

* * *

The bar was empty except for the bartender behind the counter. They set their grocery sacks under their stools before sitting down.

The barkeep, a thin man who looked to be in his fifties, approached them. "Wet day out today, ain't it?"

Hawkeye nodded and said pleasantly, "It is. You're lucky not to be out in it."

"Maybe so, but it's been purdy quiet since this here storm has come on in." He looked them over, then said, "Well then, ya'll lookin' for some lunch or just somethin' to warm ya up?"

"Just something to warm us up," Roy answered.

The barkeep nodded. "So what can I get for ya?"

"I'll take a Hot Peppermint Chocolate,"(1) Hawkeye said immediately.

The thin man smiled and said cheerfully, "That should warm ya right up." He turned to Roy. "An' for you?"

"Long Island Iced Tea."(2)

The barkeep nodded, then left to make the drinks.

For a few minutes neither of them spoke, then Hawkeye said, "Roy, you know you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Outside of work, I'm your friend. You know that. I'm here to listen if you need, or to just _be_ here if you'd rather."

Roy nodded. It was true. He had known her for a long time, even before the war. They had also fought together in Ishbal. She was probably one of the few people that really knew him well… Sometimes he thought she knew him better than he knew himself.

He cleared his throat. "No… I think I do want to talk about it. I guess I'm just having trouble knowing where to start…"

"Why don't you start with Ed? I think that's what's really bothering you here."

He looked at her for a moment before saying, "Are you charging me for this?"

Smiling slightly, she shook her head and said, "Never mind, I can see you aren't comfortable talking about it."

"No," he said quickly. "No… I'm sorry, Riza." Roy let out a sigh and began. "Ed… Well, basically one minute he can be acting almost normal, the next he's either yelling, or crying, or he just stares off at nothing. He'll hardly eat anything; that by itself is enough to make anyone worry. I've tried getting him into a conversation so I can ask about Al, but he cuts off all my attempts."

"Have you asked him straight out about Alphonse?"

Roy shook his head. "No. Frankly I'm nervous to bring him up at all." Roy told her about the nightmare the first night Ed had been there, although he left out the part where he had comforted the boy. By the time he had finished, the barkeep arrived with the drinks.

Hawkeye nodded, sipped at her drink, then asked, "What else?"

"He keeps talking about how much he wants to die," Roy said, unable to keep the pain out of his voice.

"I see…" she said, concern written in her features.

"So… what do I do?" he asked quietly.

* * *

Ed sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the phone.

'_I heard your brother traveled with you...'_

"Yeah… He did…" Ed said to no one. He laid his hand on the phone's cool surface.

_Al..._

Ed didn't even know how Al was doing… He didn't know… That night he had hurt Al; hurt him really bad. What had happened after he'd left? He felt so ashamed of what he'd done. There was no way they would want him in their life again; not when he could just turn on them like that…

Ed shook his head. No. The best thing he could do now was stay away. He had already caused Al too much trouble for one lifetime.

He bit his lip, trying to make himself pick up the phone.

Every night he dreamt that Al died from the fight; that there were complications and they weren't able to save him.

He had to know…

Even if he never saw them again, even if they didn't want him around, he had to know.

* * *

Hawkeye sighed and looked at him with a considering expression on her face. "Well. This is how I see things. Edward is a very troubled young man. His father left the family at a young age. His mother died when he was ten, leaving him to care for his younger brother. Then there was _the transmutation_…" She looked at him meaningfully, not wanting to go into the details of the failed human transmutation out loud.

Roy nodded and she continued. "Then the trauma of losing his limbs, and being responsible for what happened to Al." Another meaningful look. "Then becoming a State Alchemist at the age of twelve and all the problems that have come with it; problems that would be hard for even adults to bear. He's made a lot of dangerous enemies over the years that have been after his life, like the homunculi. There have been several times that he's been tricked, used, beaten, and almost killed. He's seen people die, and people have died because they were trying to help him."

Roy nodded, took a sip, then looked at his drink with a frown. He had already drunk half the glass…

"All of that, and he is only seventeen. His life has been one big whirlwind of chaos and confusion."

"Yes, but," Roy interrupted. "He's never been this unstable before."

She nodded. "He's had to push all his feelings aside to accomplish his goals; he's had something to focus on with getting Al his body back, but now… Well, he's done what he set out to do, and life is comparatively quiet now. He's not always on the run, trying to find the next lead. All those pent up feelings have to catch up eventually, right?"

He nodded, remembering how things had been for him during the war. It had been hard while he was there, but the true nightmare had begun when he'd returned from the battlefield. The people he'd killed had haunted, not only his dreams, but his waking hours as well. The fear in their eyes just before he killed them wouldn't leave him. He could still hear their screams; could still see the charred and mangled corpses…

During the war he didn't have time to think about them all. He was numb to it all. He would push himself until he was exhausted, then he'd collapse and sleep like the dead; sleep without dreams. It had all happened so fast. Afterward, when there was time, his mind made him revisit every detail. That's when he had started drinking heavily. He'd been drunk most of the time those first few months. He had tried to kill himself, but couldn't find the courage. He had even tried to come up with a theory for human transmutation; as if he could bring them all back. But all that was in the past… He was much better now…

Really…

"Yeah, I see what you're getting at," he said softly.

She looked at him sympathetically, as if she understood what was going through his thoughts, then said, "I think Ed should get some help."

"I can help him." She gave him a doubtful look, and he said, "What?"

Sighing she said, "Roy… you've always wanted to help Ed and Al in any way you could, but I think this would be better left to a professional. From what you've said, it sounds to me as if he could use some time in the mental ward at the hospital so they can watch him; make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt himself."

Roy shook his head. "I don't think he'd be willing to do that. I can look after him, I'll just have him do office work for a while and he can keep staying at my place… What?" Roy asked defensively at the unsettled look on her face.

"Roy," she said hesitantly. "I really don't think it's a good idea." Her eyes glanced at his now empty glass before coming back to look at him. He noticed she had drunk less than a fourth of her drink.

Roy was beginning to feel a little angry. He did _not_ have a drinking problem. Maybe he'd had one after the war, but not now. He was sober most of the time. Of course, he was almost always at work, but if he decided to drink a little bit while he was off duty, what did it matter?

"You and Ed have never really gotten along very well," Riza began, but Roy cut her off.

"We're getting along just fine."

She shook her head. "I just don't think it's a very good idea. His emotions are too raw and tender right now. He's extremely vulnerable and needs someone to guide him and help him with his problems; someone in a neutral position to advise him and counsel him. He doesn't need an alcho…" Hawkeye cut off what she was about to say, though whether it was because she didn't want to continue what she was saying or because she saw him motion to the bartender, he didn't know.

Scowling, she stood up, and grabbed her bag.

"You're leaving?" Roy asked in surprise.

"I need to go. I'm sorry if I couldn't be more help."

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. "Wait. Riza… I was only going to order some water," he lied.

Riza looked at him with a hurt expression on her face and he suddenly felt ashamed. He knew that she knew he was lying. _She's just too damn perceptive..._

She sighed and looked away from his gaze. "I'll see you tomorrow, Roy."

He let go of her arm and watched her walk out the door. Turning back, he picked up his glass before he realized it was empty. Setting it down, he put his head in his hands. Why had he said that? He didn't have a problem; he didn't need to defend himself.

Frustrated, Roy stood up, and grabbed his bag. He didn't have a problem, and she didn't know about him and Ed, he told himself. He was about to leave when he turned back, picked up Hawkeye's almost full mug, and drained it before stalking out the door.

* * *

Al set the book he'd been reading down on the table and frowned. Winry had been avoiding him all day. He'd wanted to apologize to her, though exactly _what _he was going to apologize about was beyond him. Maybe he would just say that he was sorry he had been a jerk. It seemed like a pretty safe thing to apologize for. He'd thought all day about what he could have said that was so horrible and couldn't think of anything. But she had said that he was being a jerk, so he must have done _something_ wrong.

Pinako had told him to just give Winry some time, and to not take her so seriously. He was trying to do that, but not succeeding very well.

When the phone rang, he jumped a little in surprise. Picking up the receiver, Al said in a dejected voice, "Hello?" When no one answered on the other line, Al's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Hello?" he repeated. Again, no answer. He swallowed and hesitantly whispered, "Ed…?"

There was a click, then the line went dead.

* * *

1) A warm drink consisting of Hot Chocolate and Rumple Minze. Rumple Minze, or Rumpleminze, is a 100 proof German schnapps with a very strong peppermint flavor. Served in an Irish coffee cup.

2) A drink containing ½ oz each of Vodka, Light Rum, Gin, and Tequila; juice of ½ lemon, and a splash of Coca-Cola for color. Served in a highball glass and decorated with a slice of lemon.


	12. Maes

**Descent**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Maes**

Walking through the front door, Roy had expected to see Ed still lying on the couch. But the young alchemist wasn't there. He shut the door behind him listening closely for any sounds, but didn't hear anything. He thought about calling out, but stopped himself. He didn't want to overreact. He was sure Ed wouldn't just leave.

After putting everything but the lube and condoms away, Roy walked into the hall and poked his head into the bathroom.

No one.

His heart was beating hard and fast in his chest as he looked nervously into the bedroom. Relief washed over him. Lying on his side on the bed was Ed. Roy let out his breath, unaware until now that he had been holding it. It had been so quiet because Ed was sleeping.

He stepped silently into the room, not wanting to wake the other alchemist, then stopped. The phone, which normally sat on one of the nightstands, was lying on the floor near the closet door. A section of paint on the wall was peeling and dented as if the phone had been thrown against the wall.

Which, Roy reasoned, it probably had.

He walked over to the nightstand, opened the drawer and put the lube and condoms away, then picked up the phone and set it back where it belonged before looking down at Ed. The boy was lying with his back toward him, so Roy walked around the other side of the bed, then frowned when he saw that Ed's face was red and splotchy from crying.

Sighing in weariness, Roy fished his wallet, keys, and silver watch out of his pocket and dumped them on the nightstand before lying down in weary exhaustion on the bed beside Ed. Turning his head and looking at the teen, Roy thought about all that had happened in the last two days.

In a way it had been a great weekend. Things had happened that he would never have believed would ever happen. It had only been in his wildest dreams that Ed was interested in him before…

In another way, the weekend had been really rough on him. Dealing with all the drama Ed had brought with him, and the emotional ups and downs he had gone through dealing with the boy.

'_I don't think it's a good idea.'_ Hawkeye's words echoed in his mind as his eyes searched Ed's face.

He wondered if she was right. What if he couldn't help Ed? Would it really be so bad for him to try? Was it so horrible that he didn't want Ed to leave now that he was here? Was he being selfish?

Roy turned his head away from the young man lying next to him and gazed up at the ceiling. Without looking, he felt around on the nightstand until his hand touched the pocket watch, then grabbed it and held it in front of his face.

The silver state identification gleamed dully in the muted light coming from the storm ravaged world outside the window. Sometimes he thought the watch a heavy burden. He had done things since becoming a State Alchemist that he wasn't proud of; things he would have never thought he'd have to do when he first entered the military academy.

Using his thumb, he depressed the button that opened the watch. In the side opposite the clock was a picture of two young boys.

_Maes..._ Roy thought sadly.

The picture had been taken the summer of their thirteenth year, along with several others; one of which sat on his desk.

He smiled.

That summer had been a great summer. It had been the summer Maes had found out about Roy's sexual preference. They had spent the summer experimenting sexually with each other, and for the next few years afterwards they had kept up that part of their friendship.

But all good things have a tendency to come to an end. At nineteen, Maes had decided he wanted their friendship to be a platonic one, and of course Roy had honored that. How could he not? He'd been hurt, of course, and disappointed. Their friendship had been strained for a while afterwards, and it had been one of the loneliest times in his life.

Needing something to fill the emptiness, Roy had reached out for anything he could find to keep his mind occupied, and that thing had ended up being alchemy. He had studied it before, but the pain made him immerse himself in it. He'd found a man who knew flame alchemy and studied under him for a time, before his friendship with Maes had mended.(1)

That was when they decided to join the military together. After basic training they had been separated, choosing different paths to follow; although they still kept in touch. Roy had decided to return to his teacher to learn flame alchemy. Getting the old man to actually teach it to him had been a chore all in itself. He had thought that if he became a State Alchemist, he'd some how be able to do some good for people.

A mistaken, naïve belief.

The Ishbal extermination had taught him that.

Maes had been lucky enough to land a desk job and had never been sent to the front lines, but not Roy. When he'd gotten back from that living hell, he had been in an awful state. Maes had stepped in and been the friend he'd needed. But it had been more than that.

Despite Maes's declaration, years before, of wanting a platonic friendship, he had been the one who had held Roy, and kissed him. He had been the one to take Roy to his bed and let the broken man find comfort with him. It had lasted two months, the sporadic sexual encounters between the two, but it happened less frequently near the end until the night Maes told him that he was going to ask Gracia to marry him.

That was the last night they had together.

After that, Roy threw himself into his work. He was determined to become fuhrer, and determined to forget about his feelings for Maes. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to forget.

Not until he laid eyes on Edward Elric.

Roy snapped the watch shut and put it back on the nightstand. He turned his head to look at the young alchemist.

It hadn't all happened right away, but his infatuation with the boy slowly began to take over and he was able to let go of his feelings for Maes.

Roy turned over onto his side and scooted closer to Ed. Trying not to wake the boy, Roy slid an arm under Ed's neck, wrapped his other arm around the teen's shoulders and pulled him close; finding comfort in the embrace.

He would help Ed.

He would.

* * *

A trumpet blew and Russell Tringham looked up from what he was doing. The man who had blown the trumpet, a tall, heavily muscled miner from Youswell, had short brown hair and a full goatee.(2) When those in the immediate vicinity began gathering around, Russell left what he was doing to join the crowd.

After a few minutes the man shouted, "There are missions to go to the north and to the south for some of you." There was murmuring among the crowd, but the big man overrode the voices. "These come directly from Kagegkuski. I'll be reading out a list of names. If you're on it, you're to report to section F-7 to get your assignments."

There was a rustling behind him and he looked back to see a short, blond boy squeezing his way through the men.

"Brother, what's going on?"

Russell waved him to silence as he listened to the names being read. When he heard his name he listened even closer for Fletcher's and was dismayed when it never came.

As the crowd dispersed, Russell quickly explained what was going on as they walked toward section F-7. Fletcher stopped suddenly, a look of panic on his face.

"Brother… I don't want to be left here without you..."

Russell frowned. "Well, we'll just have to ask if you can come with me." He said it mostly to console his brother for the time being, but he didn't think they'd let Fletcher leave. His younger brother was a talented alchemist, they'd need him there.

Besides, Russell was no fool. He knew he'd never be able to match Fletcher's skill in alchemy. His scientific specialties lay in chemistry and they weren't much use in an army. He wasn't needed here as much as his brother. He didn't want to leave Fletcher, but he believed in the cause enough that he was willing to be separated from his only family for a short while.

"Don't worry," he said, trying to be cheerful. "I'm sure everything will be fine, even if I have to go without you, I'll be back before you see any fighting."

* * *

Winry knocked on the door, but when no one answered she cracked it open and looked inside.

The room was dark, but moonlight came in from the window and she could see Al leaning against the windowsill looking out through the glass. She bit the inside of her cheek trying to decide whether she should disturb him or not.

She hadn't spoken to him since that morning. She'd spent the rest of the day, after her talk with granny, working and thinking about what she'd said. Maybe granny was right. Perhaps Al did care for her. But if he did… what then? Was she placing false hopes on Ed returning her feelings?

Taking a deep breath, Winry slipped inside the room and closed the door softly behind her.

"Al?" Her voice sounded more timid than she wanted, but it had gotten his attention. His head, which had been at a downward angle, came up, but he didn't turn around. "Dinner will be done soon."

There was silence in the room for almost a full minute before he spoke. "There was a phone call today."

Winry blinked. "A phone call…? From who?"

When he didn't respond immediately, she felt a tightness in her chest and her heart began to beat faster. Could it have been…?

"I don't know," he whispered, his voice soft and worn.

"You don't… What do you mean?"

"No one spoke when I answered the phone," he said heavily. She wasn't sure what to say to that, so she said nothing. "I think…" he said in a painfully broken voice. "I think… it… was Ed."

She gasped involuntarily. She'd thought that perhaps it could have been, but to hear Al say it… "How do you know?" she asked hesitantly.

He shook his head and whispered, "I don't, but… I asked if it was Ed and whoever it was… well… they hung up…"

Winry felt tears come to her eyes. Ed… it could have been Ed, and if it was… that meant that at least he was alright. But he hadn't said anything to Al! Nothing at all! The whole situation just seemed so wrong! A tear rolled down her cheek. She sniffled and wiped it away.

Al turned around and peered anxiously at her through the gloom. The concern in his eyes was too much for her and she dropped her head. He shouldn't be concerned about her, not when he already had so much to be worried about. After all, it was his brother that was missing. It had been he who had been beat up.

"Winry…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Why..." she whispered, then looked up at his dry eyes. "Why don't you cry? Have you even cried once since it happened? Just once?"

He couldn't meet her gaze and looked away. "No…" came his answered whisper.

"Why?" she asked again, tears streaming down her face.

"I want… I wanted to be strong." He turned his head back. "For you, Winry. I wanted to be strong for you."

Her eyes widened at his answer. She hadn't expected him to say such a thing. "No," she whispered. "No… Alphonse…" She shook her head. For her. He wanted to be strong for _her. _"It's okay to cry; it doesn't make you weak."

_Oh granny! You were right... he does care for me... _Ed had never said such things to her, and in a way it broke her heart to realize it, but she also felt relieved as well. She'd been so confused about what to do… She did care for Ed, but she cared for Al too. But… if Ed didn't care for her, then there was no need to hold her hopes concerning him, was there? She was free to explore how she really felt about Alphonse. Although her brain kept going over this, her heart just wasn't listening…

She already knew she was attracted to Al, but… if he cared for her and she cared for him… What would that mean for their future? She tried to picture herself with Ed's brother, but the mental image just wasn't coming… all she could think of was Ed… She _did _care about Al though. She _really _did. How could she make her heart understand what her brain had already figured out?

A pained look crossed his face. "But, you're always waiting for him to return, and…"

* * *

And what? What could he say? That he wanted to be strong so that she could lean on him? It just seemed so arrogant… selfish even.

She had lowered her head again and when a small sob came from her Al thought his heart would break. He couldn't stand seeing her cry, but he was unsure what to do. What could he say?

Without warning, Winry walked over to him and put her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shoulder. He stiffened and blushed. Of course, they were friends, and she had often hugged him and Ed, but that was when they were kids…

"Win…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Shut up, Al, and hold me."

A small smile touched his face and, not for the first time, he envied her ability to be so straight forward. Hesitantly, he brought his arms up and wrapped them gingerly around her body. He lowered his head so that it was pressing against the side of hers and breathed in her scent.

He had wanted to hold her for so long, but now that he had her in his arms he felt guilty. He felt as if he were betraying Ed. Winry cared for his brother, not him. It all just seemed so wrong… but he couldn't get himself to let go.

Al felt a lump form in his throat. He had to find Ed; he just _had_ to. He couldn't stand all the mixed emotions, all the pain. He tightened his hold on her and tried to hold back the tears. Whatever she said, he needed to be strong for her.

"It's okay to cry," she whispered, and he felt his eyes begin to burn from the tears.

How did she know?

He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth together; determined to hold it in. But he couldn't. A rough sob burst from him as all the negative emotions he had pushed away came to the surface.

Weeping brokenly, Al held her even closer, not caring if it was right or wrong to have her in his arms. She was there, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

1) Concerning Roy's teacher, the idea of him here came from the manga, but I am not really following the manga in this story; this story follows the anime. I'm just choosing a few things to put in this story. The rest of this section does not follow the manga in any way.

2) See episode nine.


	13. Lies

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Lies**

Russell turned in his sleeping roll and threw a stick into the small fire, idly watching it burn. The last few days had been lonely ones without Fletcher to keep him company. He hated leaving his brother in the middle of a war zone, but even if there was fighting, Fletcher shouldn't see much of it anyway. They'd want to save his talents for when they were facing alchemists and that probably wouldn't be for a while. The thought was a frightening one; his little brother fighting in a battle against State Alchemists…

It was hard... but he wouldn't allow it if he didn't truly believe what they were fighting for was the right thing.

He frowned.

South.

They'd sent him south to spread the word of the People's Government, and they had denied his request to take his brother with him. He wasn't really surprised.

What was surprising was how well Fletcher had taken the news. He'd seemed slightly disappointed, but other than that you'd never know the kid was being left by himself in the middle of a war zone. Russell shook his head. His brother was growing up fast. Sometimes he thought the boy was more mature than he.

The sound of a twig being broken sounded beyond the fire and Russel sat up quickly. "Who's there?" he called. There was a moment of silence before he repeated the call. When he saw who it was, Russell sighed and mentally took back everything he had just thought about Fletcher being so mature.

His brother, who was now coming out of the darkness, grinned in unashamed delight. "I was wondering when you'd notice I was there."

"Well you were making so much noise, how could I not?" he grunted in feigned irritation.

"I've been following you since the day you left," he pointed out.

Russell shook his head. "There are going to be some very unhappy people when they find out you're missing."

Fletcher shrugged and knelt down by his bedroll. Russell looked him over and said in concern, "Where are your supplies?"

Fishing some dried biscuits and jerky from his pockets, Fletcher said, "I had more, but I ate it. There were berry bushes along the way too."

Russell nodded, remembering, then said, "What? No bedroll?"

His brother rolled his eyes and said, "I didn't want to attract attention."

Russell nodded and lifted one side of his blanket in invitation, and Fletcher kicked his shoes off and scooted under the blanket next to him. Russell wrapped his arms around him, pulling the small, warm body against his own; then, kissing Fletcher's neck tenderly, whispered, "I'm glad you came. I missed you."

* * *

Roy looked up when a stack of folders, thick with paper, were dropped gracelessly down on his desk. He had been so engrossed in what he was reading that he hadn't even noticed Ed entering his office. Ed, looking bored beyond belief, gazed down at Roy with a flat expression.

"General Hakuro(1) asked me to bring these to you."

Roy's eyes went to the pile, then back at Ed. "And…?"

Ed sighed. "And, he said he wanted files 465, 763, and 884 back by Monday."

Roy grunted. "_And?_"

"_And_ he said he'll be thinking of you this weekend and how you're such a hard worker, while he's out on the lake," Ed said flatly.

Roy glared at the folders, then looked back up at the short alchemist. "_AND?_" Ed muttered something that Roy couldn't hear. Frowning, he had to tell the teen to repeat himself.

"_AND,_" Ed growled angrily. "He said, 'You're such a great little helper, Fullmetal, when you aren't running around the country like a lost puppy. Tell Mustang that he's doing a good job finally getting you house broken.' _Oh_!! I am _so_ going to kick his uppity _ass_!" Roy watched in amusement as the young alchemist raised a fist and shook it. "He'd better watch himself! I _own_ his fucking life! If I hadn't been on that damn train…(2)"

Sitting back in his chair, Roy watched Ed continue with his rant. It had been one week since he'd found him wandering the streets of Central. After the weekend, life had settled into a routine of sorts. Generally they woke up together, rushed out the door together, then spent the rest of the day at headquarters.

In the evenings Ed would leave by himself while Roy worked late; usually getting home around midnight. By that time Ed would already be asleep. Roy would go to bed, then the same thing would happen the next day.

Despite living together under the same roof and seeing each other frequently during the day, they didn't speak to each other much. Roy knew Ed was avoiding any sort of conversation that could lead to questions he didn't want to answer. Unfortunately, most of their waking hours together were spent at headquarters. Such an arrangement meant that Roy couldn't use a non-verbal way of getting Ed to open up to him.

He'd been hoping they would have a chance to get intimate again over the upcoming weekend. It wasn't just conversation Ed had been avoiding. Most nights when he returned home, Roy found him sleeping on the couch; however, come morning Ed was usually snuggled up to him like a defenseless kitten.

Roy would hold the boy in his arms, enjoying the feel of him under his touch. He would breathe in Ed's scent and sometimes plant feather soft kisses on his skin. The peaceful scene never lasted long though, because when Ed woke, he would move away; sometimes fleeing from the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

Roy wasn't sure what had happed the night he had come home to find Ed asleep and the telephone lying on the floor, but he was sure that it was influencing the boy's current behavior toward him.

"…can't _believe_ that son-of-a-bitch compared me to a _little puppy_!" Ed shouted then looked behind him as the door opened and a man with short, red hair poked his head through the opening.

"So, uh, is it safe to come in?"

"GRRrrrrr" Ed growled, but Roy just nodded and motioned with his hand.

The door opened the rest of the way and Heymans Breda walked in carrying a box of doughnuts, followed by Jean Havoc and Vato Falman. As each of them settled themselves onto one of the two couches in the office, Roy turned to Ed and said, "Well, Fullmetal, as much as I've enjoyed this _little_ conversation, we're just going to have to save it for another time."

Ed glared at him before turning his angry stare on Havoc, who had started snickering, then stalked across the room and threw himself onto one of the couches, where he folded his arms and tried to ignore everyone.

Roy shook his head, then asked, "Where are Fuery and Hawkeye?"

"Jus' saw Fuery a bit ago, 'e said 'e was comin'," Breda said around a mouthful of doughnut.

After a few minutes, Lieutenant Hawkeye let herself into the office. She was wearing a men's three-piece suit and her hair was tucked under a cap(3).

"You're late," Roy said simply.

She nodded, looking weary and irritable. "I had a hard time getting away."

"It's not a problem. We're just waiting for Fuery now."

She sat on the couch next to Breda and snatched a doughnut from the box. Roy watched as Ed looked the first lieutenant up and down then said, "What's with the clothes?"

It took her a moment to answer, having just bitten into a doughnut. "It is part of an assignment."

"Oh I see. You almost look like a guy."

She looked over at him and said blandly, "I often think the same thing about you too, Edward."

Ed's mouth fell open as Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Roy all started laughing.

"She got you on that one, Chief," Havoc chortled. The teenager folded his arms again and stared at them with a disgruntled look on his face.

"Here, have a doughnut," Breda offered good-naturedly, holding the box out toward Ed, but he shook his head stubbornly and looked away.

Hawkeye opened her mouth to say something; she seemed to regret her previous words, but stopped when the door opened and Fuery walked into the room carrying a thin folder. His face held a serious look on it and the jovial mood evaporated instantly.

"I'm sorry I'm late…" the short master sergeant said solemnly as he made his way across the room and handed the folder to Roy. He took it, and without another word, Fuery sat on the couch between Falman and Ed. Roy opened the folder and began to quickly scan the contents. With each paragraph, his heart seemed to sink lower in his chest.

He looked up to make sure the door was closed, then said, "Someone lock that door." He looked back down at the paperwork, not caring who carried out the order.

Roy took another five minutes to go over the information, then closed the folder and laid it down. Sitting back in his chair, Roy pressed his fingers together in a steepled position and stared at the soldiers in front of him.

Fuery had done some excellent information gathering; almost _too_ excellent. Much of what they were about to discuss was highly classified; for how long was another matter, but at the moment it was. If they were caught with this… well… they just wouldn't be.

"The Organization has formed a governing body in the East," Roy began. "They call it 'The People's Government'. Although this began in Lior, many of the eastern towns have joined this rebel government and come out in open opposition to the military. What troops remain in the outlying settlements are being recalled to East City in order to defend the military's position there. It is believed that Bartholomew Kagegkuski has plans to send his army, what they are calling 'The People's Army', against the city to drive the military out of the East completely."

Roy paused for a brief moment, letting his subordinates absorb what he'd just said, then continued.

"There are also reports of runners being sent to the north and south, spreading the news of the new government. Patrols stationed along the way have captured a few of these, but most go undetected. The fuhrer will be deploying troops to the East in an attempt to quell the eastern rebellion. He is also sending troops north and south; to every town, village and city to enforce martial law. Any person found making declarations about The People's Government will be publicly executed to make an example."

"Colonel…" Havoc interrupted with a worried look on his face. "What about the people in the East who aren't a part of this new government, what will happen to them?"

Roy looked seriously at the second lieutenant. Havoc's family owned a general store in the East(3) and would most likely get caught up in all that was happening, if they weren't already. "There were no contingencies for innocent civilians made in this report," Roy said, tapping the folder lightly with his finger. "However, I'm sure that oversight will be taken care of."

Havoc seemed to consider this for a moment, then said hesitantly, "What if sending troops to the East fails?"

Roy turned his gaze to Fuery, who hung his head, then looked at Ed. He was silent for a moment as his eyes locked with the other alchemist's, then said gravely, "At that time, preparations will be made to deploy the State Alchemists to annihilate the resistance."

He frowned and continued. "This makes it all the more imperative that we discover who in the military is connected with Kagegkuski. Those soldiers who will be sent out on the battlefield, they won't have any idea that the person ordering them to risk their lives could be a traitor."

Roy wasn't sure what he'd do if he was deployed before they found the traitors. Unlike the uninformed soldiers that made up of most the military, he _knew_ there were people in the military who would sell out the lives of others just to stay in power of some sort. If it seemed the current government was losing, well then they had connections to the opposition to save their worthless asses…

The silence in the room was heavy and oppressive, each person lost in their own thoughts, then suddenly the phone rang, startling a few of them.

Roy picked it up, and said simply, "Mustang."

"Colonel Mustang?" Roy recognized the voice immediately. "It's Alphonse Elric."

Every person in the room was watching him, listening to his side of the conversation.

"Alphonse," Roy said flatly, and watched as Ed's eyes widened.

The voice on the other line began to sound a little nervous. "I'm sorry to bother you. I'm sure you're busy… If this is a bad time, I can call back."

"No this is fine," he said, trying to sound friendlier. "What can I do for you?"

Ed began to fidget nervously and a few of the other officers cast curious glances his way.

"Well… I was wondering if you've seen my brother," Alphonse asked in a worried voice.

"Fullmetal?" he questioned, his voice once again taking on a flat tone. He watched as the young alchemist became panicked and shook his head vigorously; a pleading look filling his eyes.

"Colonel?" Al's voice sounded in his ear. "Are you there?"

"Yes. Sorry." Roy paused. He was beginning to feel angry. He didn't like the idea of lying to Alphonse, especially when he didn't have a good reason to. "No, Alphonse. I'm sorry. I haven't seen him."

"Oh." The disappointment came clearly over the phone.

"I'm sorry," Roy repeated. He really was sorry, but more than that, he was angry; angry with Ed for not telling him what the hell was going on; angry for being caught up in a situation he had no control over. He could, of course, ask Al what was going on, but he didn't want to hear it second hand. Perhaps it was childish, but he wanted to hear it from Ed.

"Okay… well… If you see him…." Al said, sounding unsure.

"I'll tell him to call you," Roy said, looking pointedly at Ed.

"Right… well… thanks…"

Roy hung up the phone and stared hard at Ed. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them.

* * *

Al hung up the phone and stared at it, one thought filling his mind.

_He lied..._

1) You'll remember this guy from the series. Refer to Episodes: 5, 9, 26, and 49… I'm sure he's in some other ones, but, haha, I'm just too lazy to look them up.

* * *

2) Episode 5

3) Got this look from episode 49. (although she isn't exactly wearing a three piece in that episode…) Just had to use it. Riza looks cute wearing guy clothes. Haha.

4) I've taken this from the manga.


	14. Manipulation

**Descent**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Manipulation**

Ed moped down the hallway, thinking about the day. He knew Mustang was angry with him, he'd been able to see it in the man's eyes, but he wasn't exactly sure _why_ the colonel was upset with him. Did Al say something? Did Mustang know…?

It hadn't taken long for the meeting to break up after Mustang got off the phone. Ed had stayed in the office after the other officers left, but his commanding officer had simply gone back to his work as if he didn't exist.

Ed felt dread wash over him. What if Al told him? What if Mustang hated him? After all, Ed couldn't see anyone really caring for someone who was capable of beating the shit out of their own brother… Ed figured that once he resigned from the military the colonel wouldn't want anything else to do with him. He'd tried not to feel hurt at the thought that Mustang most likely wouldn't think much of him leaving, but to think that Mustang would _hate _him… It was just too much.

Ed stopped at the door that led to Mustang's office and poked his head in, ready to tell the man he was going to leave, then stopped. The colonel was just finishing putting on his overcoat. Ed's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Maybe he didn't stay late on Fridays?

"I'm leaving," Ed said.

The colonel nodded and said simply, "Me too."

"What about that extra work General Hakuro assigned you?" he asked in surprise.

Instead of answering verbally, Mustang picked up a thick stack of folders from his desk, tucked them under his arm, looked at Ed meaningfully, then started toward the door. Ed moved back into the hall as the colonel walked out and shut the door behind him.

"Let's go." The words were clipped and to the point, causing Ed to cringe inside.

Shrugged uncomfortably, Ed followed Mustang through the building and outside. His jacket was feeling uncomfortably tight recently… He frowned. Not just his jacket, but his pants were too…

_Probably just the humidity..._ he thought, looking at the sky.

The storm had passed, but there were still lingering dark clouds and a slight wet breeze. He sighed and fixed his gaze on Mustang's back. The colonel tried several times over the past week to engage Ed in conversation, but he hadn't responded.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to talk… it was just… he'd thought for a long time after he made that call to Rizembool and decided he was definitely leaving the military. He just wanted to leave it all behind him. Everyone would be better off without him. It was the best he could do for them.

He'd caused Al all sorts of problems just by being around, and he'd come to the conclusion that if he stayed in Central, he'd just cause Mustang problems too. He didn't want that. Sometimes he thought of the other man holding him and all he wanted was for that to happen again, but he was afraid. What if he got too attached? What if he couldn't leave when he finished turning in all his papers?

He would only cause more problems for people he cared about.

Besides… He didn't deserve to be cared for like that. Not someone like him…

* * *

"Hey."

Winry looked up from the automail she was working on and smiled at the tall, sandy-haired boy that leaned against the door frame.

"Are you going to stay in here all night?"

She looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already evening. The order they had gotten in the day before was a very complicated piece and she'd been so concentrated on it that she hadn't noticed the time.

Giving him a sheepish look, she set her tools down and said, "Well, I guess it _is_ time for a break…"

"Don't tell me you plan on working on it more tonight?" Al chided gently. She blushed in embarrassment. That was exactly what she was planning. He shook his head, then beckoned to her. "Come with me."

Curious, she followed him down the stairs, out the front door and around to the west side of the house. Most of the clouds were gone, and the sky was an amazing array of colors; the sun only just beginning to touch the hills in the horizon.

"Wow. It's beautiful," she murmured.

"I thought you'd like it."

Winry watched as the sun began to disappear, then looked at Al, who was staring at the sunset with a soft smile on his face. Trying not to think about being too bold, she sidled up next to him and put her hand in his.

He looked down at her in surprise, a faint blush tinting his cheeks as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Since that night he had held her, she'd felt her feelings toward him growing even stronger. She'd started noticing things that he did, and how he acted, and was thrilled to find that her granny was right. She was finally beginning to see how he acted a little differently toward her than everyone else. When he looked at her his eyes seemed to linger just a little longer. When she came into the room, he would sit up just a little bit taller.

Little things, but outward signs of his feelings toward her.

She frowned. The more she felt for Alphonse, the easier it was to look back and see that, again, granny was right. Ed had never acted that way toward her. It still hurt to think about it, but not as much as it had at first.

When the sun disappeared, Al turned and looked at her, still keeping hold of her hand. He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.

"I… uh, I have something for you," he said, then held up a box covered in brown paper.

She looked at the box for a moment then took it. A gift? For her?

Curious, she unwrapped the package, then took the lid off. Her breath caught as she pulled one of the ratchets from the box. It gleamed dully in the fading light. It was so beautiful… "Oh… Al…." she breathed. "But… when? How? You've been at the house for the last two weeks…"

For a moment he seemed sad, but then it passed and he simply said, "I've had them for a while."

Putting the ratchet back with the others, she closed the lid on the box, then wrapped her arms gently around his chest, careful not to squeeze his injured ribs too hard. "Thank you so much! I've wanted this particular set for so long!"

Winry felt his arms wrap around her. He was still a little hesitant, but not as much as he had been before. This time he was a little more sure of himself.

She wasn't sure how long they stood that way, but when her stomach made a loud growling noise, he pulled away and looked down at her with a small frown. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast… I think…" she responded sheepishly, thinking of how long she had spent working.

He smiled softly, then sighed a contented sigh. "Well we'd better get some food in you then," he said, before leading her back to the house.

* * *

Ed looked up from the couch he was lying on, to where Mustang sat at the table. The man had papers spread out everywhere. He would read a few papers, then sign something, then read more papers, then sign. It looked incredibly tedious to Ed, and he was beginning to see why the colonel often put this type of work off until the last minute.

Mustang picked up a glass and took a drink of… well… whatever it was that he was drinking; Ed wasn't exactly sure what. Pouring the drink had been one of the first things Mustang had done when they'd come home, after taking off his overcoat and dropping the files on the table. Well… pouring the _first_ drink, anyway. The colonel had gotten up twice to refill the glass.

Not that Ed was counting…

The man had been working for nearly three hours, and during all that time Mustang hadn't even looked Ed's way. He wasn't sure why he felt so hurt. After all, _he_ had been giving the other man somewhat of the same treatment all week... but he hadn't ignored the colonel _completely_, and he hadn't done it to be mean or anything. He was just trying to do what he thought was best…

Frowning, Ed tried to concentrate on his book, but kept looking over the top to snatch glances of the man at the table. The colonel hadn't even taken off his uniform or anything! He'd just sat down and begun working. What was the point of bringing home his work anyway, he wondered.

Ed pulled at the neck of the shirt he was wearing; another one of Mustang's tee-shirts, although this one was black and not white. He was also wearing another pair of Mustang's sweats. The last pair had been thrown away after Ed had gotten blood all over them. He liked wearing the colonel's clothes... When he wore them he could always smell Mustang's scent, and for some reason that brought him some comfort…

Finally unable to stand it any longer, Ed shut the book, and threw it on the floor. It landed with a loud thud. When the colonel didn't even look up, Ed glared in irritation, got up, and walked over to the table. Maybe he could offer to make dinner; not that he could cook very well, but maybe he could get Mustang to stop ignoring him.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Colonel?"

"What is it, Fullmetal?" Mustang answered without looking up.

Ed swallowed hard, hurt welling up inside of him. Since that night the man had kissed him and… well… done other things to him, Mustang had called him by his first name whenever they were alone. He hadn't really realized how much it had put him at ease until this moment.

Mustang sighed in exasperation and looked up when Ed remained silent. "Was there something you wanted, Fullmetal?"

Ed swallowed again, trying to keep the tears from coming. He hated this! He hated being ignored… But he hated being treated so coldly even more… And for what? Why was he being treated this way? What had he done wrong? The thought came to his head that Mustang must know what he'd done to Al. His brother probably told the colonel and that's why the man was being so… so…

He shook his head and whispered, "No…nothing…" before walking swiftly to the bedroom and quietly shutting the door behind him. Throwing himself on the bed, Ed grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it.

He wasn't going to cry…

Or at least…

He wasn't going to let Mustang know he was crying…

* * *

Roy watched Ed leave the room and heard a click as the bedroom door closed. He sighed, took a sip of the bourbon and looked down at the documents. He'd actually stopped reading the mundane reports two hours ago and had settled on thinking about Ed for a while before signing each one.

His anger and hurt at Ed not trusting him had helped him deal his guilt of manipulating the vulnerable boy's feelings in order to get him to open up. He really was a despicable person. He couldn't help feeling as if he were acting selfish and childish.

Perhaps he was.

'_You'd be no good for Ed.'_ Maes' words from so long ago rung clearly in his head. '_He doesn't have any experience in relationships. He's too innocent. He doesn't have any defense against you.'_

'_I would never hurt him, you know that,' _he had replied.

Maes had looked at him sadly and said, _'You wouldn't mean to, but Roy... sometimes you want things to go your way so much that you justify manipulating the people you care about._

'_What do you mean by that?' _he had asked and his friend had only stared dolefully at him. _'I've never manipulated you.'_

Maes had chosen to ignore the blatant lie and said instead, _'You would have too much control in the relationship. You'd have the power to make him or break him. Besides...'_

'_Besides?'_

Concern had filled Maes' eyes. _'Do you still drink everyday?' _

He took another sip, resisting the urge to just gulp the strong drink down in an effort to forget the memory, then began cleaning up the paperwork. He was finished for tonight. He didn't want Ed falling asleep before he had a chance to talk to him. It was for Ed's own good anyway. The boy needed to talk, even if he didn't know it.

Taking his drink, he walked toward the bedroom and quietly opened the door. Ed was curled up on the bed, his head pressed into a pillow. The boy's body was shaking slightly, and Roy had no doubt that he was crying.

Roy undid one of the buttons on his uniform, took a sip of the bourbon, then walked over to the bed. Setting the glass down, he sat on the mattress; keeping his eyes on Ed. When the teen had realized Roy was in the room, he'd squeezed the pillow tighter and his body had tensed.

Roy reached over and began stroking Ed's blond hair. It felt a bit rough and slightly greasy. The kid needed a shower… For a moment the boy's body remained stiff, then Ed lifted his tear stained face from the pillow and looked up; a hurt bewildered look on his face.

Roy crawled onto the bed, laid down behind Ed, and pulled him close. Ed sniffled, but didn't continue crying as Roy put his arms around him.

"Ed," he began. "I'm sorry." _I'm sorry I'm such a manipulating bastard._ "I've been a little uptight today." _I've wanted to strangle you all day._ "There's been a lot of pressure on me lately." _Pressure as in, physical pressure. Do you know how fucking hard it is to wake up with you next to me every morning and not be intimate with you? _"Especially with what is happening in the East." _What if you leave the military and I have to go to war without you?_ "I don't know if we'll be deployed or not." _What if it's too late for you to get out, and you have to go through all the horrible things I did?_ "And I am a little hurt that you won't trust me enough to tell me what's going on with you and Alphonse." _I'm pissed, and if this doesn't work I just might beat it out of you._ "You know I could have just asked Al what was going on." _I still might if you don't talk to me._

Roy kissed Ed on the ear then turned him around to face him. Their eyes met for a moment before Ed looked away.

"Edward," Roy whispered. Ed turned his eyes back up and he could see the golden orbs swimming behind unshed tears. "Tell me what happened between you and Alphonse."


	15. Therapy

**Descent**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Therapy**

"We had a fight."

Roy opened his eyes. Truthfully, he had been beginning to think that Ed wasn't going to answer him. With the stressful day and the liquor, he had dozed off in the long silence. Ed looked away when his eyes met his. Roy reached out his hand and gently traced a finger on the bruise covering Ed's eye. It had faded quite a bit and would soon be gone completely.

"Al did this?" Roy asked softly.

Ed nodded. "But…"

Silence.

"But…?"

Ed's breathing was becoming heavier as he tried to hold back tears. "But… I did worse." Roy only lay there, silently waiting for Ed to say more. "I… I kicked him… hard... and I used my automail leg to do it. I think it broke something in him, because there was a loud crack. He fell to the floor, and when he tried to get up again I… I couldn't stop… and I kicked him again…"

A painful sob broke through and Roy pulled Ed close, wrapping his arms around him protectively. To think that those two could go at it like that… It was almost unthinkable. They'd always been so close. Of course, he'd known them to argue and even rough each other up a bit. That was the way of brothers, and they hadn't ever actually injured each other.

"He was just… laying there on the floor, and I… I rolled him over… I was gonna punch his face in… but then he just _looked_ at me…" Ed continued brokenly. "And I thought, 'what the hell am I _doing_?' It just… all happened so fast… I… I…." Ed broke off and buried his face in Roy's chest.

Roy sighed deeply, and rubbed Ed's back for a time before asking simply, "Why did you hurt your brother?"

"He started it. He hit me first," came the muffled reply. A small smile touched Roy's face. _Al_ had started the fight? Unlikely. There had to be more to this story. "Why did Al hit you?"

There was silence for a moment, then, "Because… because I pushed Winry against the wall." A pause. "And… because I called her a skanky whore…"

Roy felt a flash of protectiveness for the blonde girl, a byproduct of his guilt from murdering her parents he supposed. But this wasn't about him and his problems. Right now it was about getting Ed to keep talking.

"Why did you push her?"

"Because that bitch was yelling at me! Like always…" he answered, a note of anger entering his voice.

"Why was she yelling at you?" Roy asked calmly, trying to inch the truth out of him.

Ed was silent for several minutes before he whispered, all traces of anger gone, "They were playing a game at the table by the fire place… the power had gone out… because of the storm… and I… I pushed the table over…"

"Why did you push the table over?"

He felt Ed's body stiffen slightly in his arms, and it was almost five minutes before the teen whispered, "I don't know…"

_Okay, now we're getting somewhere..._ he thought and wished that he could talk to Hawkeye again before continuing. She was much more sensitive than he was. When they'd had to interrogate suspects in the past, she was always the 'good cop' while he did the 'bad cop' routine, at least when it came to male suspects. With the female ones, he was the 'good cop' all the way… Not that this was an interrogation, exactly… well… it kind of was…

"I think you do know," Roy replied. Interrogating criminals was easy; pretending to be a psychiatrist was hard. "You can tell me."

He wasn't sure how much time passed, perhaps ten minutes, before Ed said simply, his voice unsteady, "We were going to travel together."

_We?_ Ed and Alphonse, Roy supposed, but things were starting to click in his brain. While Ed had been in the hospital, he'd noticed Al's crush on Winry and seen how her feelings had seemed to grow a bit for him, but hadn't really thought anything of it. Roy was beginning to see how this could have become a problem in the brothers' relationship, especially if Al wanted to spend more time with Winry than hanging out with Ed.

"Al wanted to stay in Rizembool?" Roy asked gently. Ed nodded, but didn't say anything. "And you didn't?" Ed shook his head. In a way it was a bit surprising to think that Ed wouldn't want to stay in that peaceful town, but in another way Roy also saw why he wouldn't want to. Ed had lived the life of a free bird in many ways. He'd traveled and seen the bigger picture. It might be hard to go back to one little town.

Roy stroked Ed's long blond hair. "You knocked the table over because you found out that Al wanted to stay in Rizembool?" Ed nodded after a moment. "I see," he said simply, knowing it was time to get down to the dirt of it all, and not looking forward to it. "So you're saying that you were so jealous that you couldn't control your temper and attacked your brother and your friend?"

He felt Ed stiffen then pulled away. "I'm not jealous!" he said angrily. "What do I care if Al hangs around with that slut?"

"Really? You aren't jealous? Then why are you so angry?" Roy asked, then thought,_ Oooh, I hope I'm doing the right thing here..._

"Shut up!" Ed snarled.

"Ed," Roy reached over to touch him, but Ed pushed his hand away.

"You don't know _anything_!"

"I know that you were jealous and that you couldn't control your temper, so you beat up your brother and now you're just letting yourself wallow in self pity."

"I'm not jealous!" Ed made to get off the bed, but Roy grabbed his arm, pulled him down on the bed and leaned over him.

"You're _jealous_! Admit it Ed!"

"NO!" Ed yelled, tears flowing down his face.

"Say it, Ed. 'I'm jealous'."

"No," he sobbed.

"Stop lying to yourself! You need to face this, now _say it_!" Roy demanded.

"No…" Ed moaned through the tears.

"Say it!" he shouted loudly.

A sob burst from Ed and he whimpered, "I… wasn't… I… I was…" Then screamed, "I was _jealous_! Are you happy now, you son-of-a-bitch; you fucking bastard!"

Roy nodded as he pulled Ed into a sitting position, wrapped his arms around him and murmured, "Yes."

Ed wrapped his arms tightly around Roy and whispered, "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

Roy felt his chest burn with pain at those words, but only nodded his head. "Yeah, I know…"

"Stupid colonel… You think you know everything…"

"I know that your brother still loves you very much."

"NO HE _DOESN'T_!" Ed yelled angrily, and pulled away from Roy again.

"Ed, calm down."

"If he cared so much, why would he want to stay with _her_ and not with _me_? We've always been together! Always! He doesn't care about me at all! He's probably hated me all this time for putting him in that armor, and now he hates me even more for kicking his ass!" Tears leaked from Ed's eyes and he was breathing heavily.

"Edward, that isn't true and you know it," Roy said, trying to maintain a calm composure. "If Al didn't care about you do you think he would call me trying to find out where you were?"

"If he cares… why… why doesn't he want to stay with me?" Ed moaned through a sob. "I did everything I could to get his body back. Even…" But at that he cut off and looked away.

_Even what Ed? What did you do?_ Roy wondered silently, but decided now was not the time to deal with that problem. One thing at a time... He pulled the young alchemist against him once more. Ed didn't protest the touch, but leaned into the hug.

"I never wanted to hurt him," Ed sobbed.

"I know," Roy soothed.

"I'm such a horrible big brother."

"Enough of that Ed." Roy shook his head, tipped Ed's face up and stroked the yellowing bruise. "Al is not a defenseless kitten. He's mild, but he can defend himself. You of all people should know that."

"But…"

Roy pressed a finger to Ed's lips. "Al is strong. He sounded fine on the phone. Even if you did break some of his bones, he can heal. He's young and healthy."

Ed shook his head. "But he's my little brother…"

Roy tried to hide the smirk that came to his mouth and raised an eyebrow. _Little?_

Ed glared at him, hearing the thought even though no words had been spoken.

He smiled warmly down at Ed and said, "Alphonse couldn't have a better older brother than you, so I don't want to hear anymore of this 'I'm such a horrible older brother' angst, alright?" Ed swallowed hard and nodded. "Good." Roy tenderly kissed Ed's forehead, and the younger alchemist blushed slightly, then pressed his face to Roy's chest. They sat that way for a long time before Ed spoke.

"Colonel?"

"Hmm?"

"I… I don't really hate you…"

Roy gave a small smile. "I know Ed," he lied. Sometimes he really wasn't sure… But he could at least hope that the teen cared for him…

Ed sighed contentedly and after a few more minutes he spoke again. "Colonel?"

"Hmm?"

There was a moment of silence before Ed asked hesitantly, "When we're alone… is it… is it alright if I call you 'Roy'?"

Roy's smile widened and he squeezed the boy tightly. "You can call me whatever you want."


	16. Bait

**Descent**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Bait**

"You awake?"

Ed cracked an eyelid open then shut it immediately at the room's brightness. No, he hadn't been awake; he'd been happily sleeping until a certain someone lying behind him had started nibbling on his neck. Of course, he didn't mind Mustang's show of affection and his mouth turned up into a slight smile.

"So does that mean you're awake now?" the man asked, sounding a tad amused.

"No," Ed replied groggily and snuggled deeper into the colonel's arms.

He didn't remember falling asleep last night. The last thing he remembered was Mustang holding him after their… what? Argument? No… not really an argument, but what? Ed wasn't sure exactly what to call it. Their 'talk' maybe? It didn't matter anyway, what was important was that Ed was actually feeling pretty good. That wasn't to say his depression was completely gone, but he felt… content?

Perhaps it really did help to admit he had been jealous, but now what? It seemed as if a lot of that had been replaced with embarrassment. Even if what Mustang said was true, that Al didn't hate him, how could he ever face his brother again, or Winry for that matter?

Ed's eyes suddenly popped open and he gasped when a hand slid under the waistband of his sweats and begin to fondle him gently.

"Awake now?"

Ed moaned involuntarily. Yep. He was definitely awake now. Mustang chuckled and murmured, "I think that counts as a yes," before sucking lightly on the back of Ed's neck.

It didn't take him long to become completely aroused and when he pushed against the colonel's hand, Mustang moved it away and rolled Ed around on his back. He watched as Mustang pushed the covers off the bed then straddled his body before leaning his head down and kissing Ed deeply.

There had been plenty of times over the last week for Ed to think about what had happened the last time with Mustang. He wasn't so surprised by what was happening now, and of course he was in a much better mood this morning than that night.

Ed wrapped his arms around the colonel's neck and kissed him back as passionately as he could. He'd never really kissed anyone before that night either, so he supposed he was being pretty clumsy about it, but he wanted to be apart of the action this time, not just let it happen.

"Ed," Mustang murmured and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. Instead, he pulled the colonel's head down and began kissing him again. After a moment he felt Mustang pushing away again, but again Ed held on tight. Suddenly, Mustang pulled away sharply and his neck broke through Ed's grip. He was breathing hard and his mouth glistened with saliva. "Ed," Mustang gasped through panted breaths, then wiped a hand across his mouth. "You need… to at least… let me get… a breath… of air… once in a while." Ed blushed furiously, but nodded, not saying anything because he too was breathing hard.

The colonel grinned then wiped his thumb across Ed's lips before planting a small kiss there. When Ed tried to return the kiss, Mustang pulled back slightly so that Ed's lips only met air. He frowned in confusion, and Mustang pecked him on the lips again. Once more Ed tried to return the kiss, this time lifting his head up slightly, but again met only air.

Mustang grinned widely when Ed cast him an irritated look and let his head drop back down. When Mustang dropped his head down a third time, Ed's arms quickly wrapped around the colonel's neck and pushed his lips hard against the other man's. Suddenly Ed felt fingers tickling his sides and he flailed his arms around trying to get the older man to stop torturing him.

"Stop!" Ed begged, laughing. "Stooooop!"

The tickling stopped, but Ed continued to laugh, the phantom sensation lingering in his sides. When he finally got himself under control, Ed looked up at Mustang and saw a look of … what? Amusement, surely, but there was something else…

_Affection?_

He blushed at the thought, and shook his head. Whatever it was, Ed had never seen such a look on Mustang's face.

"Just wanted you to know who was in charge."

"Whatever," Ed growled, though he was smiling. "What do you want me to do now? Salute you?"

Mustang raised an eyebrow and his grin turned lecherous. "Well that would be something…" he murmured. "I've never been saluted in bed…" Pushing Ed's shirt up, Mustang began kissing his midsection and whispered, "Sounds kinda sexy…" Suddenly the colonel began chuckling. "And I've_ never_ been saluted by you. I don't know if I could handle the shock."

Ed was about to say something in response, but gasped when he felt his sweats pulled down to his knees and Mustang started taking his kisses lower. He lifted his upper body onto his elbows and looked down. "What are you doing?" he asked through panting breaths, though he had a feeling he already knew.

Mustang turned his head up to look at Ed for a moment then bent low and wetly ran his tongue up the underside of Ed's arousal. Before he'd left for Rizembool, Ed had heard Havoc talking to Breda about getting a 'blow job'. He hadn't heard of such a thing before, but since then he'd been happy enough to think of how such a thing would feel.

His fantasies couldn't even begin to compare.

When Mustang slipped his mouth over Ed's cock, he dropped his upper body back onto the bed and grabbed Mustang's head in his hands. Gasping frantically, Ed pushed deep into the damp cavity of his mouth and let out a loud yell as he quickly came to a climax.

Chest heaving, Ed dropped his hands and moaned as Mustang licked gently at his softening sex. When the colonel moved to kiss him, Ed turned his head away. "Eww, no. You got that stuff in your mouth."

Mustang's shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes while shaking his head. He made a small chuckling noise before reaching over to the nightstand and picking up the glass he had brought in the night before. It was still half full.

"Let me wash my mouth out... he murmured, then swished some of the liquid around in his mouth and quickly swallowed it. "I needed a drink anyway…" Mustang muttered, draining what remained in the glass. Ed supposed he'd be thirsty after doing something like that too.

Suddenly, Ed's stomach growled and the colonel looked down at him for a moment before rolling off the bed and walking toward the bedroom door. "Come on. Let's get you fed. I think that's the first time I've heard your stomach growl this whole week."

"But… What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of hungry too."

Ed blushed. "No… I mean…"

Mustang waved a hand and chuckled. "I want to make sure you get fed if you're hungry. Don't worry about me, I can wait. I'm a big boy, so I don't cum in my pants when I don't get some right away."

"Bastard!" Ed growled at the insinuated insult and grabbed a pillow, hurling it at the laughing man who dodged it easily.

* * *

Al looked up from his book and frowned when Winry entered the house. Her normally cheerful disposition was thoughtful and sober.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

She sighed and set down the bag she was carrying. "Just… just something that happened in town today…" she mumbled as she dug through the sack.

He shut the book and tossed it on the table before getting up and walking over to her. She sounded distracted and that wasn't like her either, unless she was working on a particularly interesting piece of automail.

"You wanna tell me about it?"

Letting out a long breath of air, she stood up straight and flopped a pair of white gloves against his chest. "You wanna try those on and see if they're the right size?" she said, avoiding his question.

Taking them from her, Al tried the gloves on and found they were a perfect fit. "They fit great," he said with a grin. "You're amazing."

She nodded. "Yeah I know."

He laughed and shook his head. "And so humble."

"Yeah, that too."

"So what happened in town?" he asked again.

Winry cast a long suffering look in his direction before bending to pick up the large brown paper bag. When she stood up straight, Al held out is arms to take the bag from her, but she shook her head. "I appreciate it, but I think you need to heal a little more before you do any lifting."

He frowned at this and silently followed her to the back of the house where they did most of the big automail repair jobs. She set the bag down and turned to look at him. "Persistent aren't you?"

"Only when I'm trying to get something I want," he answered stubbornly.

She lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh reeeaaally?"

He felt his face heating, and said quickly, "So what happened in town?"

Winry sat down heavily on her work bench and motioned for him to sit as well. She didn't speak immediately, but when she did, Al could hear worry in her voice.

"Al… have you ever heard of The People's Government?"

He shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Well… there was a man in town today and there was a large crowd gathered around him. He was talking about how they had formed a new government in the east and it is a government for the people. Where the military doesn't control the political system, the people do. The people elect their own officials and… I don't know… it sounded a little strange."

He nodded. It sounded like a good thing, but then things that sounded too good to be true often were.

"But, Al… They have an army. They want to overthrow the current government and replace it with this new one."

"Really?"

She nodded, apprehensively hooking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Why is he here then?"

"He said he's looking for recruits for their army, and he wants Rizembool to declare for The People's Government," she said, her voice quavering a little.

"You're kidding," he said in disbelief, eyes widening slightly.

She shook her head. "The thing is that a lot of people seemed to agree with him… Al… I'm scared. We've never really had much of a problem with the military here. We're a quiet place and we just keep to ourselves. If people start rebelling against the government… what's going to happen?" Al just shook his head. He couldn't even begin to think of what kind of trouble this was going to cause. "There's going to be a town meeting tonight and he's going to speak there."

He sat looking at her, considering, then said, "I'm going."

"But…"

"I'm _going_ Winry. I want to hear what this man is saying."

"Stubborn mule," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

Russell trudged along the dirt path with Fletcher by his side. It was a fine day except for the oppressive heat. Sweat rolled down his back making his long sleeved button up shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

"It's hot…" he complained, not for the first time.

"It's a good thing I came with you, Brother."

He rolled his eyes and said blandly, "Yes, Fletcher. For the millionth time, it is a good thing you came."

Fletcher nodded, a satisfied grin pulling across his face. Russell had forgotten the small amount of money he'd been given for the train and for food and lodging. His younger brother had noticed and brought the funds with him when he'd left the camp.

"If it wasn't for me…"

"Yeah, yeah… I know… It would have taken me a month or so to get here by foot." His brother nodded again, looking very glad to be acknowledged.

"Hey!" a voice called to them. "You guys look pretty hot. You want some water?"

Russell and Fletcher looked to the side of the road to see a young man of about sixteen or seventeen beckoning to them. The two brothers looked at each other, then headed over to the stranger.

"I've got some water and some food over there under that tree." he pointed down a small hill to a tall shady tree. "I have plenty." The teen frowned. "I was going to have a picnic with my girlfriend, but she never showed."

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Russell lied. Truthfully, he grateful for the opportunity to get out of the sun and take some refreshment.

* * *

"My name is Urayami," the stranger introduced himself, then his fingers his fingers through his dusty brown hair.

_I'm sorry..._ Russell thought when he heard the name.

The teen shrugged and smiled as if he'd heard Russell's thoughts. "So where are you guys from?" the brunet asked curiously as he leaned against the tree trunk.

"From the eastern country," Russell answered and gave Urayami a short explanation about the new government they represented.

The other teen nodded in interest. "I see. And you're looking for talented alchemists?" When Russell nodded the other teen nodded and said, "Then you'll be heading to Dublith, right?"

Russell took a drink of the water and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Well because, there's a woman there who is a master alchemist. She hates the government and State Alchemists."

"What's her name?" Russell asked, sitting forward in interest.

"Izumi Curtis."

* * *

"Thanks for the food and for the information," Russell said, stepping back on the road and holding his hand out. The rest had been just what he'd needed.

"Sure. No problem," Urayami said, taking Russell's hand and shaking it. "Good luck. Maybe I'll see you on your way back up this way and you can tell me more about this People's Government."

Russell nodded, then patted Fletcher on the back. "Well, let's get going." His brother nodded in agreement. They waved a final time, then turned and started down the dusty road toward Dublith.

* * *

Envy ran a hand through the brown hair of the form he had chosen and watched the two Tringham brothers walk away from him.

Can't go 'fishing' without bait…

* * *

**A/N:** Urayami is a Japanese word for 'Envy'.


	17. The Meeting

**Descent**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Meeting**

Winry gazed around the room in apprehension as the crowd began yelling and shouting at each other. The man from The People's Government had made many good points during his speech, but when it came down to the wire—whether or not Rizembool would join with the new rebel government—well…

Her eyes fell on Alphonse, who had sat quietly through the whole meeting. Not that he would act like those other rabble-rousers, but he was still injured and she had a feeling there were going to be quite a few fights after the assembly convened.

"My friends! My friends!" the man, whose name was Roland,(1) yelled. "Please listen to me! I know this type of a decision doesn't come lightly and of course we don't expect you to declare openly for us right away, but if you are for our cause, if you believe in freedom and are against being oppressed by the blood-thirsty military leaders in Central—and I know you are. I see it in your eyes, hear it in your voices—_please, _at the very least, send us some support. Our soldiers need food, clothes, shoes... Anything you can spare."

A young man, no older than twenty, stood up and yelled, "I'll do better than that! I'll go and fight myself!" A low buzz of murmuring began to fill the room. More hotheaded men stood and yelled their support while women—their mothers, sisters, and perhaps even wives—buried their heads in their hands and began crying.

Winry watched as the man—Roland—closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. She thought he looked very emotional, but felt skeptical that any of it was actually real. After a moment the man opened his eyes and raised his hands.

"Friends!" he shouted, and the noise faded. "Friends…" Roland said more softly. "Thank you. You are doing a great thing. It is people like you who will change this country. This land will be a place where your children will be able to lead happy lives because of your courage."

Roland paused and looked around the room. "Now, I have one more matter of business to bring up with you. The People's Army is in desperate need of alchemists. Are there any among you who have a talent for alchemy?" Winry frowned, noticing that he didn't add 'who was willing to fight', and slipped her hand into Al's.

The murmuring began again. Then someone yelled loudly, "Best alchemists 'round here are them Elric boys…"

Many in the crowd nodded, and once again Winry felt glad that they had taken a seat near the back. Her heart sank as she watched Roland's eyes widened slightly and he mouthed the word, 'Elric'.

Here was a man who knew of the Fullmetal Alchemist.

A man near the front stood up and scanned the crowd. "There's Alphonse Elric right there," the man said and pointed in their direction. The people sitting close to them turned to look. Alphonse grimaced slightly and a faint blush came to his cheeks. It seemed as if he wanted to shrink in his chair to get away from all the curious eyes. Winry wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, protect him from the others. The hand she was holding tightened around hers and she squeezed it gently in return to let Al know she was there for him.

When her eyes returned to Roland she thought the man looked eager, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse, but thankfully he only nodded, gave a few more remarks, and turned the meeting over to the mayor who quickly convened it.

"Let's get out of here," Winry whispered urgently to Al as the people began getting out of their seats. Al quickly nodded his agreement. He held tightly to her hand as they made their way hurriedly out the door.

Over the din of the crowd, Winry could hear Roland calling, "Alphonse! Alphonse Elric!" She didn't want to talk to the man. She didn't want _Al_ to talk to him. What if he talked Al into joining up with this People's Army? Winry didn't know if she'd be able to handle it.

After leaving the town hall, the two of them began walking quickly away from the building, but moments later they heard Roland calling to them again. Al looked down at her and asked, "Walk faster?" Without looking back at him she nodded vigorously. Unfortunately, the other man was determined to speak to them because a moment later he was at their side, panting from having to run to catch up.

"Mr. Elric… please… can I… just have… one word with you?"

He didn't stop. Instead Al said, "I think you just had eleven words with me," then picked up his pace causing both Winry and Roland to start jogging to keep up.

"Just five minutes! _Please_!" The man sounded so desperate that Winry almost felt bad for him; almost, but not quite. Al must have heard what she did, because a moment later he slowed, then stopped.

_You're just too nice Al... _Winry thought.

Al sighed, then said, "I'm not interested."

Roland chuckled, and wiped the sweat from his brow into his light gray hair. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"Yes, but I already know what you're going to ask. I'm not interested in joining you."

Winry grabbed onto Al's arm with her free hand and stood closer to him. She just wanted Roland to go away. Go away and leave them alone.

"You aren't, by chance, related to Edward Elric are you?" Roland asked a curious, hopeful, and almost disbelieving note in his winded voice.

Al didn't answer for moment, then said, "Yeah, he's my older brother."

The man blinked, and Winry wondered if he was surprised by the information or not. "How… how many siblings do you have…?"

"There's just the two of us."

Roland blinked again, then eyed Al up and down. Clearing his throat, the man said, "I've, uh… I've seen the Fullmetal and, uh… saw his brother too… once... few years ago. You just don't seem… big… enough… I mean, you _are_ tall, but not..."

The man trailed off as Al started laughing. "Oh! Well, yeah..." He waved a hand vaguely. "I was going through this… armor phase..." When the man still didn't look convinced, Al shrugged and said more seriously, "Look, I don't care whether you believe me or not. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't believe me."

Roland seemed to think about it for a moment, nodded, then said, "You as good as your brother?"

Al sighed, the previous humor leaving him, and looked up into the darkening sky. "Mister… My brother and I... well, we have different talents. He can do things I can't, and I can do things he can't." Al ran a hand through his sandy-blond hair, then looked back at Roland. "_Good_ is a matter of opinion."

As the two men stood there staring at each other, crickets chirped loudly breaking what might have been a deep silence. The sounds of the people from the town hall drifted toward them on a slight breeze that made little strands of hair tickle her face.

"We need you," Roland said quietly after a couple minutes.

Al looked toward the ground and kicked a pebble before looking up and saying simply, "The State Alchemists." The man's lips pressed together and he nodded once. Al closed his eyes and swallowed roughly, as if his throat were dry. Small creases appeared on his forehead and she felt him squeeze her hand again. Holding back the urge to wrap her arms around him, she squeezed his hand back.

"I can't. I'm sorry," Al whispered, and Winry could see the moisture forming at the corners of his closed eyes.

"Because of your brother," Roland said simply. It wasn't a question. Al nodded. "I see…" Roland moved his gaze down and looked at Winry. His eyes softened and he whispered, "Yes… I see very well."

* * *

Vicky(2) leaned over and wiped down the empty table in irritation. The customers who had occupied this spot had been demanding and rude, and in the end they had left her nothing for her trouble. But then, that wasn't to be helped she supposed. It was almost closing time and there usually weren't many people this time of night.

She looked over at her last two customers. They were military men, but she wasn't really sure if they were important or not. She didn't really pay much attention to the stars and stripes on their shoulders, nor did she know what they meant. She didn't care. They were all bastards. These two men had been talking for quite a while, but they had only ordered tea.

Vicky sighed as she moved to the next table and pulled out her washrag. She was tired and really wanted to go home. The two soldiers would no doubt leave her almost nothing for a tip, military men rarely did. They were all cheap.

Cheap bastards.

She had dated a few men who were soldiers and all they wanted was a good time at the cheapest price.

Bastards all of them.

As she moved to the next table, the men's conversation became easy to hear and she listened idly as she cleaned.

"...and we've caught on to his little bug. Tapping into the phone lines…the little shit."

"Now, now, let's not be hasty. The worker bees only do what the queen bee tells them to."

"That son-of-a-bitch upstart only _wishes_ he were the queen bee. If we get rid of his little fucking bugs then he won't be able to tell them to do anything."

"That won't work. They're drawn to him like moths to a flame."

The first man snickered. "Moths to a flame," he said derisively. "Better to say, 'moths to _The_ _Flame_', don't you think?"

"Indeed. And if we want the moths to scatter?"

Vicky looked over her shoulder and saw the first man grin. When he spoke, a chill ran through her.

"We extinguish 'The Flame'."

* * *

"You _do_ know this is really irresponsible, don't you?"

Roy looked up from his stack of paperwork to where Ed was sitting on the other side of the table. "You _do_ know how ridiculous that sounds coming from _you_, right?" he countered.

"Are you saying I'm irresponsible?" Ed said incredulously, as if the very idea was ludicrous.

Instead of answering, Roy leaned forward and checked the teen's work. "You need the tops on the 'M' to come to a point more."

"Well, excuuuse me. I just fucking learned how to sign your damn name today." Roy grinned and scanned the next report. He should have thought of this sooner. "Shouldn't you be _reading_ these?" Ed asked. "I mean, what if there's important information or what if someone is requesting something that you shouldn't approve?"

Roy scribbled his name at the bottom of the report and flopped it on the 'finished' pile. "Trust me, Ed; Hakuro isn't going to give me anything of importance. He just gave me this big of a load right before the weekend because he's an ass."

Ed looked up and grinned widely. "Who is the one always bitching at me about my profanity?"

"There's a difference," Roy mumbled as he went over the next report.

"Yeah right. What's that?"

Roy looked up. "We're not at work."

Ed blinked. "What?"

"Think about it. When have I ever told you not to swear when we weren't at work?" Roy could almost see the gears in Ed's brain turning.

"Never I guess…"

Roy nodded, then started on the next report. It had been a pretty good weekend so far, well at least after all the drama on Friday night. Except for Ed moping around for a few hours on Saturday, that day had been good as well. In fact, it was the closest to the 'old Ed' the teen had been since Roy had taken him home with him.

There were a few things that bothered him though. One was that he still didn't know how Ed had gotten Al's body back. This wasn't really his business, but he had an idea that it hadn't been something pleasant. He thought it was obvious that Ed hadn't used the Philosopher's Stone. After all, creating something like that would take… well... _a lot_ of people and he was pretty sure he would have heard of something like that. Another thing that bothered him was that although they had talked about what had happened with Alphonse, Ed still hadn't made any move to contact his brother.

"Ed, do you plan on calling Alphonse?" he asked suddenly. Ed stared down at the report for a minute before shaking his head. "Why not?"

"I… I can't. I mean... not right now. I _will_ call him… eventually… I just can't right now… I just need to think about it."

Roy frowned. "What do you need to think about?"

Ed moved his gaze from the paper to Roy in frustration. "Just _things_, okay? I don't want you to push me. Just leave it alone." Roy softly scratched his forehead, then brushed at his dark hair before nodding and looking back down at his papers. "And don't forget you owe me for all of this help," Ed continued, still sounding irritable now.

Roy flinched slightly. Why in the world had he agreed to do that? He looked back up and said, "Ed… You aren't really serious are you? I already told you I'm not a..."

Ed cut him off. "You promised."

"But…"

"Here I am, saving your lazy ass. Been forging your name on these documents for the last hour, and now you're trying to go back on our deal?"

"Yes."

Ed's eyes narrowed.

"I mean, no. It's just that I think that someone else would be a better..."

"You promised," Ed pressed.

"You're going to be disappointed," Roy mumbled in defeat. How did he get himself into these messes…?

* * *

1) Roland is an original character.

2) Vicky is an original character. She will not be seen again, she is only used to as a way for the reader to catch the conversation.


	18. Indecent Transmutation

**Descent**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Indecent Transmutation**

Winry walked outside and stretched. It was a bit cloudy, but it wasn't too bad. Perhaps they would be in for more rain soon. She thought it would be nice as long as it wasn't like the horrible storm they'd had when Ed left...

_Ed..._

It had been two weeks and still no word from him... She knew that Al had been calling around, but then he'd stopped for no reason. She had asked him if he'd found Ed, but Al had only shrugged, saying that there were so many possibilities as to where Ed could have gone. He'd said that he was sure Ed was fine, and that hopefully they would hear from him soon.

Not exactly a lie.

Alphonse hated lying.

But it wasn't exactly the truth either.

Winry was sure Al had stumbled on some sort of information, but had decided not to share. At times she just wanted to try beating it out of him, but that wouldn't work either.

Ed was like a viper; his temper fast and hot. If you pushed him too hard he just got pissed and bit you. Al, on the other hand, was like an ox; his temper slow and cool. He would stubbornly wait until you were done, then continue as he had been, but if you prodded to much he would probably try to run away. If he couldn't go away, he'd take you down, but only as a last resort.

Sighing, Winry made her way down the steps and started walking to the side of the house. She always felt like she was waiting for Ed. Why couldn't her heart understand that she loved Al...? She _did_ care about Ed, but it was different now... She knew that Al was the one who cared for her and since she cared about them both, obviously the best choice would be Al.

But what if Al left too...? She bit her lip gently... That man from the night before had wanted Al to join their military and Al had refused, but what if he changed his mind? What if Al decided that was the best thing to do?

Now that she was finally learning to put aside her feelings for Ed and explore her feelings more deeply for Al, Winry didn't think she'd be able to bear having him leave her. She needed him here. Tears began to well up in her eyes at just the thought of Al going away, of making her wait just as she had waited all those years when they'd been gone...

When she walked around the corner of the house, she stopped. There was the object of her thoughts, kneeling on the ground, his back toward her, doing... something...

"What are you doing?"

When she spoke he started and looked at her guiltily before standing up in a rush and turning to face her. She could see a faint blush on his cheeks. Suddenly, something small and brown behind him scampered off...

"What was that?" she asked suspiciously.

His blush deepened, then he frowned. Peering closely at her, Al walked forward and softly touched her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he whispered in concern.

"Wha… what do you mean?" she stuttered, not realizing he had easily sidestepped her question.

"You look like you're about ready to cry..." The worry in his voice only deepened her fears. She looked down at the ground, not wanting him to know about her thoughts.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited until she looked up. Smiling gently with a small blush on his cheeks, Al said, "You know, angels as beautiful as you shouldn't look so sad."

Winry smiled an amused smile, and shook her head. "Alphonse..."

His 'angel' lines were so corny, but they always made her smile. It was a sweet thought, him calling her an angel, but she didn't really think of herself like that.

"That's more like it," he said with a grin.

"I'm heading out back. Join me?" she invited.

"Sure. I was going back that way too."

As they began walking she looked at him in surprise. "You were?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I want to see if my gloves are dry."

"Oh. So you found an array that would work?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I couldn't really come up with anything that worked as a multipurpose array.(1) Stuff kept getting destroyed, so I decided to just stick with the soul transfer array. After all, it's unique. No one else has one, and it probably wouldn't work for them anyway."

"But what good will it do?" Winry asked as they walked to where the gloves were hanging on the clothes line with the rest of the laundry.

He examined the gloves before taking them down. "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure I'll be able to think of a good use, but even if I don't... I don't know... It's just nice to know that I came up with something so different."

"Well what if..."

"Winry!" Pinako shouted from the house.

"I'll be right back," she said before running to see what her granny wanted.

* * *

Ed stepped out onto the lawn in front of the row of apartments and wiggled his toes. It felt nice to feel the grass against the skin of his foot. After signing all those documents, it felt great to be outside.

He wiggled the fingers on his hands—both of them, even though the automail ones didn't need stretching—then stretched out his arms and breathed in the cool morning air. Suddenly he heard a ripping sound and froze. Bringing his arms back down, he slipped off the black jacket and poked a finger through the seam near the shoulder.

_Shit..._ he thought. Stretching wasn't supposed to make your jacket rip, but then his clothes had been feeling a bit tight recently...

"What are you doing?"

Ed looked up to see the colonel, now dressed in military issued exercise clothes, walking toward him. Ed grinned slightly at how well the black sweats and the blue tee-shirt fit his commanding officer.

"Well?" Mustang asked again.

Ed grunted, clapped his hands together, and fixed the hole. "I think that old woman who does your laundry shrunk my clothes..."

"I doubt it."

Ed looked up. "Why?"

"Because if she did, there wouldn't be anything left."

Growling, Ed threw his jacket at the other man's face and yelled, "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HIS CLOTHES WOULDN'T EVEN FIT AN ATOM MOLECULE IF THEY WERE A SIZE SMALLER!"

Mustang caught the jacket easily and tossed it off to the side. "Well, there's no one _else_ around here is there?"

Ed glowered darkly then moved into a fighting stance. "Let's do this," he spat out irritably.

Mustang sighed heavily. "I told you before; I'm not trained in hand to hand combat. I just know enough to get away from the enemy. If you really need to spar, you should get someone else to do it with."

Ed snickered and said, "But I wanna do it with you."

Mustang grinned and said, "Well, yes, I want to do it with you to, but that's a different matter."

Ed shook his head. Mustang _had_ to be lying. "We fought before during the assessment, and you practically kicked my ass."

"That was to assess our alchemic abilities, not our skills in hand to hand combat," Mustang said, waving his bare hands out for Ed to see.

"You're not getting out of this, so stop whining."

"It's not _whining_. It's self preservation."

"Whatever," Ed mumbled and shifted his footing slightly. "Now get ready."

Mustang frowned, then took a stance Ed hadn't ever seen before... it didn't look like a real fighting stance, but that didn't matter. Ed was pretty sure the colonel was just trying to bluff him out like always. Well, it wasn't going to work this time. He wanted to spar and Mustang just happened to be the most accessible sparing partner.

"Ready?" Ed asked, and noticed Mustang looked a bit pale. Maybe he needed more sun… He watched as Mustang swallowed hard, and thought briefly that the colonel was doing a great job at pretending to be nervous. "GO!" Ed shouted and rushed forward.

* * *

Al pulled the gloves tight over his hands and flexed the fingers. The fabric was a bit stiff, but nothing that wouldn't ease up in time. Turning his hands over, Al looked at the arrays drawn on the palms of his gloves.

_His _arrays.

He felt very proud of his work. The research he'd done had been thorough and nothing had gone wrong the last few times he had used it. Eagerly, Al looked around to find something to try his new gloves on. There really wasn't anything that resembled a human figure around. Not that it mattered. Al was sure he could attach his soul to anything. It just seemed odd to use something that was not person-like.

As he scanned his surroundings, his eyes fixed on the laundry. Not exactly humanish, but it would do, he supposed. Al moved closer to the clothes line, letting his eyes wander over the tops and bottoms moving with the slight breeze. His eyes landed on Winry's black top that she wore when working on automail. Not exactly a shirt; more like... a piece of cloth to just cover her...

He blushed deeply and glanced over his shoulder toward the back door. It wasn't as if anyone was around... Licking his lips, Al quickly clapped his hand together in the unnecessary imitation of his brother and touched the black cloth. He was instantly aware of the top's swinging motion and the cool air surrounding it. If he closed his eyes it was almost like being rocked...

Winry crashed through the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"I've got an automail job in, like, fifteen minutes!" she exclaimed grabbing her overalls from the clothes line. "You'll have to show me your transmutation later, okay?"

Al nodded dumbly and watched her grab the black top with wide eyes. He thought vaguely that he should tell her about what he'd just done, but when he opened his mouth to say something she was already rushing back inside the house.

_This isn't good,_ Al thought to himself as he hurried through the door after her.

"Winry!" he yelled, running up the stairs after her.

"Later Al!" she called back before shutting the door to her room.

For a moment he stood in front of her door, trying to decide what to do, before slipping into his own room and closing the door quietly behind him. Standing in the middle of his room he cursed himself for what he was about to do, then shut his eyes and concentrated on that piece of Winry's clothing.

He was the top...

The cloth had no eyes so he couldn't see anything, but he could _feel_ what it would be like to be the top. He felt a surface beneath the cloth.

_She must have thrown it on the bed._

Then hands picking up the black fabric.

_I shouldn't be doing this._

He opened his mouth, trying to get more air into his lungs as he felt Winry's arms slip through the top. The fabric slid down her skin and he could feel the smoothness of her against the rough material. His heart was beating fast and his breathing was ragged.

_This is wrong. _

He felt Winry's fingers hold tightly to the fabric and pull it down over her firm breasts. Abandoning what was left of his self control; Al dropped to his knees, yanked off his gloves, undid the belt on his pants, and pulled out his hard erection.

He moved his hand up and down over his manhood as he felt the fabric expand slightly with her breathing, her chest rubbing against the cloth. It was as if he could feel it all over his body, and yet he was separate from where the other piece of his soul was. It was all so confusing, but amazing... She adjusted the top and he could feel the dark fabric conform around her hard nipples.

"Oh my gosh..." Al breathed as he felt her hand run over her top, pressing the fabric against her skin. Most likely she was making sure all the wrinkles were smoothed out. His hand moved faster and suddenly the pleasure he was giving himself and the sensations coming from the fabric were too much. His body stiffened and he pushed hard into his hand as he came before collapsing to the hard wooden floor.

Suddenly Al was no longer aware of the top at all and knew that the missing part of his soul had returned. He groaned and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Thick, white liquid dripped from his softening member and made milky drops on the wooden floor.

Moaning, both from the pleasure and from the guilt, Al crawled over to his small pile of dirty laundry and fished out a towel to clean up the mess. He couldn't _believe_ what had just happened.

If Winry ever found out... He shuddered. She'd probably _kill_ him...

Al felt bitterly ashamed at what he had done, but at the same time it had been the most amazing experience he'd ever had. After getting his body back, one of the shocks of being in a body that was in the middle of puberty had been the wet dreams and the constant hard-ons. At first it had been alarming and embarrassing. He'd thought about asking Ed about what to do; after all, his brother had more knowledge in that area than he did. But with Ed's bad mood swings, and increasingly foul mind, Al just hadn't felt comfortable about doing so.

Then one day Al had caught Ed servicing himself in one of the sheds. It had been an embarrassing moment for both of them, but the encounter had definitely given Al something to think about. He'd never thought of doing that to himself... Really he didn't know much about sex or anything like that. It had meant little to him when he was a small boy and even less when his soul had been attached to the armor.

Al threw the towel back into the basket and refastened his belt before lying on the bed.

His first time jerking off had really been something too... He'd actually passed out from the pleasure. It had still been when his senses were new and novel. Not that they weren't wonderful now too, but those first couple of months after he got his body back... well, _everything_ had been amazing.

"Winry's going to kill me," he mumbled to himself, as he let his eyes close. Al supposed he should be scolding himself more, but the only thing he could think of was touching Winry with his own fingers and...

* * *

Roy hissed as Ed laid the icepack on his side.

"I'm sorry..." Ed mumbled for probably the millionth time.

"I told you not to worry about it," Roy said, and he meant it. He'd known the risks of getting hurt were pretty high, but the thought of sparring with him had seemed to make Ed happy... Roy wanted to encourage him to start living his life again, and not wallow in things that couldn't be changed.

Apparently, he was doing a lousy job because now Ed was near tears over their 'sparring match', if you could call it a sparring match. It was more Edward Elric kicking the shit out of Roy Mustang. Well, it hadn't lasted long anyway, and truthfully Roy was pretty pleased with how well he'd done dodging so many of the boy's attacks. He was going to have a few bruises, but it had been that one kick to the ribs that had taken him down. The kick had come from Ed's real foot, thankfully, and Roy was sure everything would be fine. He'd just be sore for a few days.

Ed, on the other hand, had begun freaking out when that kick had dropped him like a sack of potatoes. He had instantly begun fussing over him and Roy had even caught the words, 'just like Al' coming from Ed's murmurings.

"Can I get you anything else?" Ed asked anxiously.

"You know, I'm going to be fine. I didn't even break anything," Roy said, shifting on the bed. Ed only looked down at him in concern. Sighing, Roy said, "I could use a drink."

"Okay," Ed said, then dashed out of the room.

"Um..." Roy said in quiet sarcasm to the empty doorway. "I'll take a Mojito(2), heavy on the lime, light on the mint."

Roy stared dolefully at the doorway and listened to the clattering in the kitchen. After a few minutes Ed returned with a glass and asked, "Do you need help sitting up?" He shook his head and pushed himself painfully into a sitting position before taking the glass. He sniffed it and took a sip.

Water.

"Thanks, Ed. This is exactly what I wanted," he lied, trying not to sound disappointed. Unfortunately, he must have been doing a bad job because Ed looked from the glass to Roy and back to the glass with an unhappy look.

Roy took another sip and set the glass down on the table, then patted the empty mattress beside him. Frowning, Ed walked around to the other side of the bed, then crawled over to where Roy was laying.

"I really _am_ sorry..." Ed said again as he snuggled next to the older man.

Roy put his arm around the boy and pulled him close. "I did tell you I don't really do hand to hand combat."

Ed looked sheepish. "I thought you were bluffing…"

"Well, now you know it's the truth," Roy said, then whispered, "You still want to know if there's anything you can do for me?" When Ed nodded, Roy took the boy's hand and moved it to the black sweats, over his crotch.

* * *

Ed swallowed hard. He could feel the lump that was Mustang's penis; still semi-soft under the sweats. Ed could feel him growing more aroused by the second. Ed's heart was pounding hard in his chest. He'd never touched another man _there_ before... Mustang gently rubbed his hand over Ed's, yet the pressure was hard enough that Ed's palm was ground against the swelling erection.

"Ed," Mustang whispered. Ed moved his gaze to meet Mustang's. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

He swallowed again. "No... I... I want to. I've just never..."

Mustang smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'll help you. You'll be fine." Suddenly Mustang guided Ed's hand to the waistband of the sweats, then the hand that was covering his moved away. The air felt cool against that part of his skin, and Ed felt as if something were missing; a part of him gone somehow.

Mustang made a motion with his hand and Ed instantly understood what was supposed to come next without any words being said. He got to his knees for better leverage and slid his fingers under the top of the sweats. When Mustang took in a sharp breath, Ed looked up in concern, thinking perhaps he had done something wrong. Mustang smiled reassuringly and said, "I just wasn't expecting the sudden cold. Don't worry."

Ed looked down.

Sudden cold?

Then it hit him.

He didn't have his gloves on and the metal on his automail fingers would most definitely be cool against the skin.

"Sorry..." he murmured. _Fucking automail,_ Ed cursed in his mind. He hated the damn things, but it was better than nothing at all he supposed.

Slowly he pulled the bottoms down and carefully lifted the waistband over the man's hardening sex. Mustang was definitely aroused, but then come to think of it...

So was he.

Ed pushed the sweats down to Mustang's knees, then looked back up for more instructions. Mustang took Ed's real hand, and again moved it to his arousal. He gingerly touched his fingers to Mustang's penis which was now standing at full attention.

Different.

Touching another man was just so different.

Gently, he wrapped his hand around Mustang's cock and frowned. It was bigger than his by quite a bit and it felt foreign in his grip. Ed felt a bit stupid, making comparisons between himself and Mustang, but he couldn't help it. And it wasn't as if he'd never _seen_ the man's penis... He'd just never _touched _it before... Again he looked to Mustang for direction. Should he just start pumping away or was there something specific he should be doing...?

Ed thought his feelings must be obvious, because Mustang just smiled and reached into the nightstand drawer. Ed's forehead crinkled in confusion as he brought out a large bottle and opened it.

"Hold out your hand," Mustang said, and Ed did as he was told. He squeezed the bottle and a clear, thick gel oozed from the bottle and into his hand. It was cold, slimy, and kind of...

"Gross..." Ed whispered.

Mustang chuckled. "Don't worry, there's nothing in there that you wouldn't recognize. I'll let you read the ingredients later."

Ed looked down into his hand, to Mustang, then again to the glob of clear slime. It was then that he remembered how Mustang had taken his saliva and spread it around... Ed, guided by the image of what the colonel had done himself, moved his hand down and began spreading the ooze over Mustang's manhood. Encouraged by a moan, Ed wrapped his hand again around Mustang's arousal and moved it slowly up and down the hard length.

There was another moan, then, "Faster Ed…"

Looking from what he was doing to Mustang's face, Ed increased the pace. It was intriguing to see how much pleasure he was giving the man. He, Edward Elric, was the one who was making Mustang moan. He was the one in control at the moment. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.

What would happen if he just stopped? The pleasure would stop. Obviously Mustang could just push him aside and finish the job himself, but what if his hands were confined somewhere else? Could he make Mustang _beg _him to continue?

_Oh fuck..._

His thoughts were arousing in a way that he would have never thought possible. Being the one in control... Ed had never been in control. He had always been one step behind, always seemed to be dancing on someone else's strings.

Ed suddenly had a bizarre understanding of the man he was pleasuring. Roy Mustang liked to be in control. Ed had always known that, but... but now... His thoughts were bouncing wildly around in his head. Was it the same as this? Did Mustang get hard thinking about what he could make other people do? Had it been a turn on, knowing he had been moving Ed around like a pawn on a chessboard all those years?

Was power just as enjoyable as this?

Or perhaps this was the real power in the world.

"Ed..." Mustang moaned and panted, coming to a climax.

He grimaced slightly at the man's seed dripping down his slick hand. It wasn't as if Ed had never gotten his own on himself, but it was just... different... when it was someone else's...

Ed turned his head when he felt fingers brush his cheek. "You sure that was your first time giving a hand job?" He slightly at the compliment; or at least he thought it was a compliment...

Mustang's eyes trailed down, and Ed blushed even more when he said, "I'm guessing you enjoyed it?"

The thought of making the colonel beg for it came again to his mind and Ed felt his cock twitch. Enjoyed it? Hell yeah he'd enjoyed it... Maybe one day he'd be able to live out those fantasies too, but for right now he would just be too embarrassed to even mention them...

"Yeah..." Ed managed to croak, then flexed his wet and sticky fingers.

"Ed." He looked into Mustang's black eyes. "Let me watch you."

Ed frowned. "Watch me…?"

When the corner of Mustang's mouth curled into a small smirk, it dawned on Ed what the man was talking about. Mustang chuckled and said, "If any more blood comes to your face, I'm going to start worrying about you getting a nose bleed."

"I haven't ever... in front of someone else before..." Ed mumbled.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to..." Mustang said, but Ed thought the man sounded a bit disappointed. He didn't want him to be disappointed...

Ed swallowed hard and used his dry hand to unfasten his belt and tug off his leather pants. They were_ definitely_ too tight. That woman _must_ have done something to the fabric. After throwing the bottoms on the floor he got into a half kneeling, half sitting position facing Mustang.

He looked nervously at Mustang for a moment before bringing his slick hand to his own erection. The slime covering his hand had gone a bit cold and he blinked at the sensation. His body heat and the motion of his hand warmed the gel quickly though and it didn't take long for Ed to realize why Mustang wanted to use the stuff. It did feel a little different at first, but it was nice and...

* * *

Roy watched intently as Ed pleasured himself. He had watched other people jerking off before, but it wasn't the same when you were watching someone you cared for; especially when you'd never seen them do it before.

Although Ed had been nervous at first, he seemed to lose his apprehension as he got lost in the enjoyable sensations. Ed's head had dropped, but not before Roy had watched his eyes close in pleasure. Ed's bangs covered most of what Roy could see of his face, but he could make out Ed's open mouth, gasping for air, and a small trickle of saliva dripped from the boy's lips to the bed.

Strangely enough, except for the heavy breathing, Ed made no other sounds, and even his breathing seemed quieter than it had been when Roy had pleasured him. He made a mental note to ask him about it later. Roy watched as Ed's hand sped up and the motions became jerkier. Ed clenched his teeth, still keeping any sound from coming out, and squeezed his eyes shut as he neared climax.

Suddenly, Ed's eyes popped open and he gasped sharply as milky white cum spurted from him and dribbled down his hand. With a sigh that was almost relief, Ed laid back on the bed, closed his eyes, and made a soft sound of relaxed pleasure. Then, after a minute, Ed seemed to remember he wasn't alone and, opening his eyes, he looked up in embarrassment, unsure what to do next.

"Thank you, Ed," Roy whispered. When Ed nodded, Roy moved the icepack from his side and removed the small towel that was surrounding it. Tossing the towel to Ed, Roy said, "It was getting a bit damp anyway."

"What... what is this stuff...?" Ed asked, wiping his hand on the towel.

"Lube."

"Lube?"

"Short for lubrication," Roy said in amusement.

"Oh. Well, I guess it fits the description. It's kinda messy though."

Roy chuckled. "Well, there are _other_ uses for it too."

Ed leaned over and began cleaning up the mess he'd left after getting Roy off. "And what are those?"

Roy grinned. "You can be sure I'll tell you about them."

Ed looked up. "But not right now?"

Roy shook his head. "I want to wait until I'm not injured first." Ed's face took on a guarded look, and he laughed. "Besides, I don't think you're ready yet."

"Whatever," Ed grunted and got off the bed.

Absentmindedly, Roy picked up the glass on the end table as he watched his young lover tug the leather pants on, then took a sip of the liquid. Instantly his face screwed up into a scowl and he put the water back. He really needed to teach Ed what he meant when he said he wanted a drink...

"Fucking pants... old bitch... shrunk... damn..." Ed was muttering as he buckled his belt.

Roy frowned and let his eyes sweep over the seventeen-year-old, and suddenly he realized that that Ed's problem wasn't shrunk laundry.

No.

Not at all.

Edward Elric was getting taller.(3)

* * *

1) Although in the movie Al can do different things with the arrays on his gloves, after much thought I decided to keep it his array to something more specific. I like the idea of Ed and Al having abilities that are distinctly theirs.

2) Mojito is an alcoholic drink (obviously) consisting of 2-3 oz of light rum, juice of 1 lime, 2 tsp sugar, 2-4 mint sprigs and soda water. It's served in a highball glass and garnished with a mint sprig. Mustang is obviously being sarcastic here since Ed wouldn't know one liquor from another.

3) Since Ed—at the age of 18—is taller in the movie, it made sense that he'd need to start growing a bit.


	19. Havoc

**Descent**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Havoc**

Ed looked over the report he had been writing and corrected a few grammatical and spelling errors. The research he'd been assigned to do was relatively easy and it hadn't taken very long to compile the information into something usable for someone not familiar with the subject.

That person would be Roy Mustang, who had assigned him this job for the sole purpose of keeping him in sight. At first, Ed had been irritated at that—having been used to traveling around so much—but now he thought it wasn't too bad. He was using this time to really decide what he was going to do about staying in the military. Ed didn't want to be involved in a war, but he didn't want to leave Mustang's side either…

It was a tough decision.

The military looked down on relationships between officers and their subordinates. Plain and simple. Unfortunately, them being of the same sex complicated matters even further. There were plenty of people who were against such unions and had no problems voicing their opinions. Sometimes those opinions could be physically harmful… Ed didn't want to make problems for Mustang, and leaving the ranks of the State Alchemists would definitely make their relationship easier to live with.

However, if the colonel got called off to war, Ed wouldn't be able to stay with him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to give that closeness up so quickly. If Mustang was going into a dangerous situation, Ed wanted to be there with him.

Satisfied with his work, Ed stuffed the papers into a folder and headed toward Mustang's office. As he walked down the hall, Ed thought how strange it was to not have to think about his next lead on the stone. He didn't need to worry about how he was going to get Al's body back. There was no next place he needed to go; no new research journal to find. Everything was just so fucking _peaceful_.

He just came to work, did research and maybe a few other things here and there, and that was it. Ed actually _liked_ doing research too, that was the kicker. He'd gone above and beyond all the lame ass assignments Mustang had given him and done a damn thorough job.

Ed grinned.

The colonel had even complimented him a few times on how he'd done, and he knew it wasn't just because they were playing nookie with each other in their spare time. He had seen it in the man's eyes that he was truly impressed with how good of a job Ed had done.

"Yo. Ed."

Ed stopped and turned around to see Breda catching up to him, holding a brown paper sack in one arm.

"Hey," he answered back eyeing the sack. Something smelled really good… The second lieutenant grinned and dug out something wrapped in paper and tossed it to Ed. He sniffed it and smiled.

A hot dog.

"Thanks."

"Yeah sure. So where are you headed?" the redheaded man asked as they both began walking down the hall together.

"The colonel's office. I've got to hand in this research summery."

Breda nodded. "Me too, I've got to go in and make my weekly report. So you hear about that new place that opened up on 65th street?"

"Nope, what kind of food do they serve?" Ed asked as he unwrapped the still warm hot dog, and took a bite. He didn't need to be told that it was some sort of restaurant. That was just Breda's thing. If he'd been talking to Havoc, Ed would have asked what kind of club it was. Ed had a pretty good idea of what his co-workers liked and the type of places they frequented.

He hadn't known before, but had started to take notice since he'd been stuck doing office type work. Everyday he felt more like a part of the team and in a way it scared him. He had never _wanted_ to be a part of the team before, but he couldn't help but enjoy the company of the other officers.

Ed continued to munch on his snack while he listened to Breda tell him all about the food choices the new eatery served as they made their way to Mustang's office.

As they neared the office door the sounds of shouts made them stop their friendly chat. They looked at each other and walked quickly to the closed door. Ed looked at Breda who shrugged and turned his attention to the office. The fact that they could actually hear murmuring voices inside meant that whoever was in there was talking pretty loud.

Suddenly, loud and clear they heard, "I'm telling you this is a bad idea! I'm totally against it!" The two soldiers looked at each other. The owner of the voice was obviously Havoc. There was the sound of more murmuring then, "No! You listen to _me_, you son-of-a-bitch…"

"Damn… I'd love to know what's going on in there right now…" Breda murmured, leaning against the wall opposite the door. Ed nodded and did the same. More shouting could be heard, but this time it was more than one person.

"Go to hell!"

"Do you _want_ to be court-marshaled, Lieutenant?" This one belonged to Mustang.

"I don't really care, so why don't you just…"

Suddenly a gunshot sounded and there was quiet.

"Well, I guess we know who is in there, if not what they're talking about."

Ed nodded.

There was no more shouting, and no more murmuring, but a few minutes later a very pissed off Jean Havoc was stalking through the door. Neither Breda nor Ed said anything to him as he stomped off down the hall.

The red-haired man looked down at Ed and said, "So… you wanna go first?"

* * *

"So, colonel… it true that Ed's been living with you?" Breda asked after all the official business was finished.

Roy nodded. "That's right. Been three weeks today. Why do you ask?"

"Oh well, you know it's just a bit odd that's all," the man said with a raised eyebrow. "Why'd you decide to let him stay at your place?"

Roy shrugged and said, "It's not that strange, I think."

He and Ed had worked out a story for anyone nosy enough to ask about their current housing arrangement, and so far it had worked rather nicely. "You remember that big storm three weeks ago, right?"

Breda nodded and Roy continued.

"Well, Hawkeye was giving me a ride home and we actually passed him out on the road. The kid was soaked through, so I took him back to my place. Turned out he was in pretty bad shape from some fight he'd had with Alphonse." After much thought on it, Ed had agreed to letting this be part of the story.

"Oh! So that's why he didn't want his brother to know where he was?"

Roy nodded and continued. "I won't go into the details. If you want them go talk to him, but basically he didn't want to go back to the dorms since that's where he and Al always stayed, so I offered to let him take the couch. I've gotten a good deal out of this. Since he hardly owns anything he doesn't take up much space, and since he is usually reading or something like that, I don't really see or hear that much of him. All that and I only have to pay half the rent I was paying before he came."

Breda started laughing. "You're charging him _rent_ for the _couch_?"

"Of course," Roy said, grinning. "Equivalent exchange. He pays for half the rent, half the utilities, half for the cleaning lady, and of course half for the food. I should probably charge him more since he eats like there's no tomorrow…"

"Oh man! Talk about totally taking advantage of someone's wallet," Breda chortled.

"I thought for sure he'd turn it down and decide he'd rather be at the dorms anyway. But he didn't; so hey, why not? Besides, it's not like the shrimp has anything else to spend his money on, _and_ I can make sure he gets to work on time."

Breda nodded. "True, true. What about when you wanna bring home a chick or something?"

Roy grinned. "Oh please, you don't think I take them back to _my_ house do you? I don't want them knowing where I live. That's what motels, or their place is for." He shrugged. "Besides, my evaluation is coming up in a couple of months, so I've been cutting back on the night life."

"I've noticed that you've been working late the past six or seven weeks. You finally decide to buckle down and do some serious ass kissing?"

Laughing, Roy said, "Yeah, you could say that."

* * *

"Someone get that!" Winry yelled. She was working and didn't want to be disrupted. But when the knock on the front door came again, she sighed, put her tools down, and headed toward the door. She yanked the front door open, then scowled darkly. Standing at the door was the man from the weekend before.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Rockbell," he said pleasantly, if a bit nervously as well.

She knew it was impolite, but she said nothing, only looked at him. Winry didn't want to let him in; didn't want to talk to him. Why couldn't he just leave them alone? Al had already said he wasn't interested…

"Okay…" he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence had passed. "I know you don't like me, but would you please let me talk to Alphonse one more time?"

Let him talk to Al? No way. She wasn't letting the man near Al. "He already told you he isn't interested! He isn't like you!" Winry snapped. "He hates fighting! He's too kind, too gentle, for your war!"

The man looked at her sadly. "It isn't _my_ war."

"You people started it."

"No…" he whispered. "_They_ started it." When Winry's brow crinkled in confusion he went on. "You see, during the Ishbal rebellion, the army came through our towns and cities. They took advantage of everyone. Even though we weren't the enemy, we were beaten down into submission. Many lives were destroyed because of them, and even now they continue to treat us like scum. Don't think that just because you live in the north it can't happen here too. I don't want to fight. I don't like it. I just want to live in peace too."

Roland swallowed hard and dug a picture out of his pocket. "You see?" he said, and she could hear the emotion in his voice. "You see here? This is my wife. These are my children. I fight for them. I fight for what remains of my family. During the last war, I lost two of my little ones to the army. They were responsible for their deaths. I… I was away and all but my youngest two were at my sister's house. They were ill so my wife was taking care of them."

He stopped as his voice became shaky. After swallowing a few times, he continued in a whisper, "When I came home… everything was a mess. My wife… my wife… she was stripped and tied down… they had beaten her and…" He stopped again, then picked up in a different spot. "The two little ones had been exposed to the cold air for too long and they only got worse. They died within a few days…"

He pointed at one of the children in the picture.

"This one isn't mine," the man said, his voice full of meaning. "But I still love him. It wasn't his fault…" Winry looked away, feeling slightly ashamed of her behavior. "Please. At least let me talk to him. I won't try to convince him to leave. He obviously feels strongly against it because of his brother… and because of you."

Winry looked up. Because of her?

"I will respect that," Roland continued. "I just have a few questions for him. Just questions. Please."

* * *

Ed found Jean Havoc sitting beneath a tree, staring off at nothing. The ground beside him was littered with cigarette butts, but the man still had half a pack lying on his lap.

"Hey," Ed said and tossed the man a wrapped hot dog.

"Hey, chief…" Havoc said, sounding despondent. The man looked scruffy and depressed.

Ed wasn't sure if he should stay and ask the man what had happened or not, but curiosity got the better of him and he said, "So what was all that with Mustang?"

Havoc looked at him with a flat gaze, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and said, "Why didn't you want to talk to your brother the other day?"

_Okay then... perhaps that wasn't the best thing to ask..._ Ed thought, then said, "Equivalent exchange, huh?"

"That's right."

Ed fidgeted. A week ago that question would have sent him into a state of panic, but now it just made him sad, uncomfortable, and guilt ridden. He sighed. "We just had a fight. That's all."

Havoc nodded. "Same with me and the boss; we just had a fight. That's all."

Ed looked dolefully down at the man. "You know that shiner I had for a while? Al gave that to me."

"Oh yeah? Would never have pegged him to do that. What'd you give him?"

Ed exhaled sharply, walked over to the tree and sat down beside Havoc. "I don't know… Probably a few bruised ribs or a few broken ones…"

"You don't know?"

He looked down and shook his head. "I ran out after the fight. We haven't talked since."

"Hmm. I see. So the colonel sure covered your ass that day, huh?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, but he was pretty pissed after that." He looked over at the second lieutenant and said. "Why do you smoke those things?" He wanted to turn the conversation away from him and Mustang.

Havoc sighed and put out the one he had just finished before flicking it away with his middle finger. "Helps calm me down," he said, then fished another one out of the pack.

"Really?" Ed asked. "How?"

"Just does. When I feel jittery or anxious, I have one and it just calms me down. It relaxes me. I don't know what else to say."

"Oh…" Ed eyed the half empty pack with a bit of interest. If it were true, something like that might be useful to him. Ever since the fight with Al, no… even before that… since he'd woken up from the coma, he'd always seemed to be on edge… "Can I… can I try one?"

The older man's eyes narrowed slightly and eyed Ed up and down. Havoc seemed to be considering something, but then he looked to have decided on whatever he was thinking. He fished a smoke from the pack and handed it to him.

"What was that look for?" Ed asked, taking the cigarette and examining it.

Havoc shrugged. "I forgot for a minute that you're a legal adult now. You could just go to the store and buy them if you wanted."

Ed nodded, and when he put the cigarette in his mouth, Havoc lit it with his lighter. He breathed in, and immediately began coughing at the burning sensation in his throat. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it for a moment before glaring at the second lieutenant.

Havoc chuckled and said, "Sorry. I guess I should have warned you that it takes a little time before you get used to it."

"I guess…" Ed muttered irritably, then leaned against the tree and took another drag off the cigarette before coughing again.

For a few moments neither of them spoke, then Havoc said, "My family is in the East." Ed, still trying to have his first smoke without coughing up a lung, looked at the man. "I'm really worried about them. I don't want them to get hurt. I just don't want… _anyone_… to get hurt…"

He took a drag, then continued, "Are we in the right here, chief? I just don't know. I'd like to believe that our military is doing the right thing, taking down this new government, but I just don't know. I mean… they just want to govern themselves. They just want to be left alone. I can understand that, I grew up there. The colonel should understand that too since he's from the east as well(1)… but… I don't know. I just don't know…"

Havoc fell silent and Ed finally finished the cigarette. He felt lightheaded, and a bit nauseated, but he did feel relaxed. Of course there was the bad taste in his mouth and the slight burning in his throat and chest to counter that...

"Can I have another one?" Ed croaked. He didn't want to seem like a wuss or anything.

Havoc raised an eyebrow. "A bit early to turn into a chain smoker isn't it?"

Ed blushed. "For later, I mean…" He was glad that he wouldn't need to smoke another one right now to prove himself. After all, Havoc smoked one right after the other like it was nothing, but Ed didn't think he could handle another at the moment.

Sighing, Havoc tossed the pack and the lighter into Ed's lap. "Sure. Take the rest of them."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," the lieutenant said, getting to his feet. "I've got a whole carton here at work and a few lighters too. You can spot me some later to make up for it."

* * *

Winry looked up as Al flopped down beside her on the work bench and laid his forehead on the table. She put down the screwdriver and turned her body so that she was facing him. Al's clothing was speckled with water droplets.

"Is the weather bad out there?"

He shook his head against the wood of the table. "It will be soon though."

She nodded then said, "You look tired…"

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am." After a moment he turned his head toward her and let his eyes move over her face. His cheeks turned a light pink, but he didn't look away.

Winry had noticed that he'd been doing that a lot recently; looking at her and blushing. Sometimes she thought that he looked like a boy caught taking a cooking from the cookie jar. It was so cute!

"What did he say?"

"Not much… He wanted me to talk about Ed, but I just didn't feel right about it. I wouldn't want them to be able to use anything I said against him."

"Did he try to get you to join them again?" she asked nervously. The man had said he wouldn't, but…

Al shook his head and smiled slightly before whispering, "No. No he didn't." She exhaled in relief. "So what's for dinner tonight?" Al asked, changing the subject.

Winry shook her head. "I don't know. It's granny's turn tonight."

"Oh, then it will be edible."

Glaring, she growled, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Chuckling, Al said, "It means that it will be edible. When _you_ cook it isn't _just_ edible. It's _better_ than edible. It's delicious."

Blushing slightly, she shook her head at another one of his corny, but sweet, lines. "Al…" she murmured with a smile she couldn't hold back, then picked up the screwdriver and got back to work.

* * *

Roy looked down at the document in his hand with a sick feeling in his stomach. It was official. Troops were being sent out to the north and to the south to enforce marshal law. Orders were also given for the public execution of anyone trying to spread the word of the new government.

It was happening.

This was only the beginning, but it was happening.

The Flame Alchemist dropped his head into his hands and muttered, "I really need a drink…"

* * *

1- From the manga


	20. Drinking Games

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty **

**Drinking Games**

"I'm going home."

Ed looked up at the owner of the tired voice, then to the clock on the wall. It _was _time for _normal_ people to go home, but Mustang had been staying late since Ed had gotten back to Central. Even before that, from what he'd heard.

He stretched, but not too much. He didn't want to tear another seam in his black jacket. Marking his place in the book, Ed flopped it onto the table with the rest of his research materials. "Yeah me too. Glad it's Friday."

"Why? All you do is read at home too," Mustang said dolefully.

Ed grinned. "Yeah, but that's different."

The colonel sighed. "I guess."

Ed frowned. Something was wrong. Mustang seemed distracted and depressed. "You okay?" Ed asked, standing up and pulling on his red overcoat.

"Just tired," Mustang said.

As they walked down the hall, Ed looked at Mustang in concern. He'd never seen the man looking so despondent before. Ed didn't think it could be because of the shouting match with Havoc, but…. "So what was that earlier with the lieutenant?"

"That's classified," Mustang said simply, making it clear that questions in that area were not welcome.

"Okay…" Ed said as they left the building.

He stuffed his gloved hands in his pockets and grinned. Normally he wouldn't be _too_ uncomfortably hot this time of year with all the layers he wore, but he _was_ uncomfortable given the tightness in his clothing. The thought made him grin all the more. It hadn't been until Mustang had pointed out that the woman probably hadn't shrunk his clothes after all, but that he was growing, that had Ed even conceived of the possibility that he could be getting taller.

Suddenly a thought came to him and he frowned. If he grew too much, he'd need another set of automail made for him, and that meant going back to Rizembool. Ed took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The last time Winry had made him a new automail leg she'd told him that she had made it extendable up to an inch. He would be able to do the extensions himself for half of that inch, but he'd need an automail mechanic to do the other half inch. After that, he'd need a new one made.

Ed felt guilty all over again thinking about how he had treated Winry that night, and all the bad things he had thought about her since he'd woken from the hospital. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He really _had_ been jealous.

It had taken someone else forcing him to confront the truth to make him see it though.

He really had been acting childish…

Ed moved his hand from his neck and moved it beneath his red coat to the pocket where he'd put the pack of smokes and the lighter Havoc had given him. Fishing one of the cigarettes out, Ed slipped it between his lips while he dug out the lighter.

When he found what he was looking for, Ed lit the smoke and inhaled, glad that he wasn't coughing. He'd only had one other cigarette since his first one, and he had only coughed once while smoking that one. He felt glad that he was finally getting used to it. He'd look pretty stupid if he were hacking and coughing every time…

Without warning Ed felt himself being grabbed and turned around. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" Mustang shouted.

Ed only stared wide eyed at the angry looking man for a moment, not understanding what he had done wrong. When he didn't say anything, the colonel grabbed the cigarette from Ed's mouth and shook it. "_This,_ Ed. What are you doing with _this_?"

"Smoking it…" he answered hesitantly.

Mustang's eyes narrowed and he glared irritably down at Ed. "You know what I mean."

Suddenly he felt angry and snatched the cigarette back. "If I want to start smoking, that's my choice! I'm not a kid! You can't tell me that I can't!"

For a moment the two alchemists stared hard at each other. Finally, Mustang closed his eyes, sighed, then began walking again. "Fine. Do whatever you want," Mustang said irritably, and Ed followed. "I don't want you smoking in the apartment though."

They walked in silence for a time before Mustang spoke again. "Isn't that the brand Havoc smokes?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, he gave them to me."

The colonel ran a hand through his hair, then growled, "That man is really pissing me off today…"

* * *

When the door opened, Winry and Pinako looked up from the automail job they were working on.

"Where have you been?" Winry asked in concern. The light drizzle they had been getting off and on all week had turned into a downpour, and she had been worried about Al being caught out in such a bad storm.

"Sorry to have worried you," he answered as he quickly made his way to the stairs.

Winry watched him curiously. Al was pulling his coat around him in an odd way… Suddenly a muffled mewing noise met her ears and he cringed slightly before running up the stairs. For a moment Winry just stared at the now empty staircase, then looked at her grandmother. Pinako returned the gaze with an amused grin and a raised eyebrow.

Sighing, Winry turned back to her work.

About fifteen minutes later she looked up to find Al quietly leaving the kitchen with a small bowl of milk and some leftover chicken pieces.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked in amusement.

He looked at her guiltily for a moment, then said, "Just getting something to eat."

"Really…" she said flatly. He shrugged and hurried back up the stairs. Winry shook her head. Not exactly a lie, but not the whole truth either.

Sighing, she tightened a bolt and muttered, "He'd make a fantastic politician…"

* * *

Ed flipped a coin and watched it fly across the room and drop into the cup. "This is really boring…" he complained, then looked at the man beside him.

Mustang grabbed one of the coins and tossed it in the general direction of the cup. When it missed, he shrugged, then filled the small shot glass with… whatever was in the bottle… Ed looked at the label.

Whiskey.

The colonel filled the glass with whiskey and gulped down the contents of the glass. It didn't seem like a lot, but the bottle was almost half empty and they hadn't been playing this dumb game very long…

"Try _missing,_ Ed," Mustang said blandly.

He rolled his eyes. "Then what's the point? I told you before, Al and I used to play a game like this when we were kids. I don't even have to think about it and I can still get it in the cup."

"The point?" Mustang asked with a slight grin before tossing a coin and taking another drink.

"Hey… It was my turn dammit…" Ed said irritably. Not that it really mattered. Throwing coins into a cup had stopped been fun when he was eight...

"The _point_, my _dearest _Edward…" At that Ed rolled his eyes. "…is to get as drunk as you can, as quick as you can." Another coin tossed, followed by another drink.

"I didn't think you needed a fucking game to do that," Ed mumbled as he tossed another coin and heard it clink with the others a second later.

"You don't, but I thought you would like it better…" This said with another coin tossed. When the small metal disk dropped into the cup, Mustang swore bitterly.

"I don't drink…" Ed said, turning a coin over between his fingers and glancing over at his lover.

Mustang chuckled. "Oh, I see. You'll smoke, but not drink. That's what I just _love_ about you, Ed. You always make so much sense."

Ed tossed the coin and said, "Why do you want me to drink with you anyway? If you want to get drunk, fine; but do it by yourself."

Mustang shook his head. "It's no fun being around sober people when you're soused."

Ed picked up the now less than half full bottle and sniffed the contents, before pulling his head away sharply. "Don't you have anything that smells better than this shit?"

"I'm sure I could find something."

He put the bottle down and sighed. "So why are you so determined to get drunk anyway?" Mustang had just been about to toss a coin when he stopped. His hand lowered and he seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Colonel," Ed said, trying to get the man's attention.

Nothing.

"Mustang," Ed tried again.

Still nothing.

Ed bit the inside of his cheek. Although he'd said Ed could call him by his first name when they were alone, he hadn't done so as of yet because it just seemed too strange. Hesitantly, he laid a hand on Mustang's arm and said murmured, "Roy…?"

The colonel turned his head and looked vaguely at the teen for a moment, then a small smile touched his lips. "I was wondering if you would ever call me that…" his voice trailed off and he seemed lost in thought once more. Suddenly, Mustang seemed to snap back into focus. "I have a great idea!" he said, a little too exuberantly. Ed watched as Mustang got up, at first a tad unsteadily, grabbed the bottle and headed back to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ed called, getting up.

"We're going to have some fun!" came the reply.

* * *

Winry crept to Al's room, determined not to make any noise, and pressed her ear against the door. She couldn't hear anything, but that didn't matter. She knew what was in there… She wrapped her hand around the door knob and turned it slowly so as to not make a sound. When the knob was turned completely she took a deep breath, held it, and opened the door a crack.

Al was sitting on the floor playing with a small, brown tabby kitten. She could see the bowl of milk set near the bed and the pieces of chicken as well. Winry opened the door enough for her head to poke through, and the hinges made a small creaking noise. Al looked up in surprise, eyes wide.

"Just getting something to eat huh?" she said, and let herself into the room, closing the door behind her.

His cheeks flushed a dark red. "Yeah. I was. Just… It wasn't for me…"

Winry put her hands to her hips. "Al…" His eyes widened more, and he made a small whimpering noise. "Oh no you don't! No amount of making yourself look cuter is going to let you keep the kitten."

"But… she was all alone, and it's raining…."

Sighing, Winry sat on the floor next to the tall teen. "We have a _dog_, Al."

"Den will love her…"

"Den will _eat _her," she said flatly.

Al picked up the energetic fuzz ball and held the kitten, which couldn't be any older than three months, up with the paws and face toward her. "You wouldn't make me put poor CinCin(1) out in the rain would you…? Look how small and defenseless she is…"

"You _named_ it…?"

Al only gave her the 'I'm a cute, give me what I want' look.

Winry sighed in exasperation. The kitten _was_ darling… Leaning forward, she put her face near the small animal and petted its head. Suddenly the kitten swiped at her and she felt a sharp stinging sensation in her cheek and nose.

* * *

Ed looked down as a shot glass with bluish liquid that was placed on the table in front of him. Mustang set another one down on the table for himself and stepped back, grinning like an idiot.

"Oookaaay…" Ed said and looked up at the man expectantly.

"This is something of my own creation," the colonel said proudly. "It has a half ounce of Banana Liqueur; half ounce of Blue Curacao, that's what gives it the blue color; and half an ounce of Everclear."

Ed continued to stare at the older man. "That doesn't mean anything to me…"

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Okay, basically all you need to know is that it tastes good. The Banana Liqueur adds some banana flavor. The Curacao adds an orange flavor, there are different colors, but I like blue the best here. The Everclear doesn't add much to the flavor, but it has the highest content of alcohol. It's what's going to get us nice and toasty."

"Aren't you already 'toasty'?" Ed asked, remembering how much of the other bottle Mustang had already drunk.

Mustang waved the words off. "Hardly. I've just gotten started."

_Yeah right..._ Ed thought. "Okay, so does this _fantastic_ concoction have a name?" he asked, sniffing it.

"Yep. 'Fiery Blue Mustang.(2)'" he said, with even more pride.

Ed's cheeks puffed out and he started laughing. "Fiery Blue Mustang? You named it after _yourself_?" More laughter. "I can't believe how fucking _conceited _you can be sometimes!"

"So glad that I can amuse you…" the colonel said flatly.

Trying hard to get himself under control, Ed said through panting breaths, "Sorry… sorry… So why '_Fiery Blue_ Mustang'?"

"Because blue fire burns the hottest."

"Okay. _And?_"

The colonel grinned. "Well to drink this, you set it on fire first, then blow it out before downing it."

Ed pressed his lips together and blinked his eyes to keep the tears from the laugher bubbling up inside of him from coming out. "You're joking." Mustang shook his head and walked over to his overcoat. Pulling out the white gloves, Mustang walked back to the table as he put them on. Ed frowned. "Isn't it kind of irresponsible to use alchemy for something like this?"

"Of course. Now, when I light it on fire, blow it out and gulp it down. Alright?"

Ed looked doubtfully down at the drink. He'd never drunk alcohol before, and was a bit nervous. Well… he supposed the colonel was right. It was stupid to not be willing to drink one little tiny glass of alcohol when he was willing to start smoking. It was only a little shot glass after all; it wasn't as if he could get drunk of off such a little amount.

When Ed nodded, Mustang snapped his fingers and a small amount of blue fire burst onto the liquid. He immediately blew it out, picked up the glass and swallowed the contents.

* * *

"I am _so _sorry," Al said again as he dabbed a damp cloth at the small claw marks on Winry's cheek and nose.

"It's okay…" Winry murmured, trying to remain still.

Al frowned. He really _did_ feel bad. The little cuts weren't deep, but they would leave a mark until they'd healed completely. When she'd cried out in pain, CinCin had wiggled free from his grip, scratching at his hands, then ran under the bed in fright.

"Is it really bad?" she asked.

He shook his head and dabbed at her face again. The cuts had stopped bleeding and he was trying to get the blood off of her skin as gently as he could, but it was hard for him to concentrate. They were both sitting on his bed, and he was just _so close_ to her… he could _feel_ her breath on his skin...

Al could feel the blood rising not only to his cheeks, but also to his…

"Are you okay?" Winry's eyes looked into his with concern.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" he murmured, silently begging his body to go back to normal.

She began a smile, but stopped and blinked as the movement brought a little pain. "You're blushing…"

"Oh… well… It's just a little hot in here…" he answered lamely.

He wondered what she would do if he leaned over just a little more and pressed his lips against hers. He had dreamed and fantasized about doing that, but to actually _do_ it… No. He couldn't. There was no way… She would beat him within an inch of his life…

Her lips pulled into a frown. "Are you sure you're alright? You're not getting sick are you?" Al shook his head, afraid to speak. He had run out of blood to wipe away and he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep blotting at her face forever.

He _really_ wanted to kiss her…

His heart was beating faster in his chest as he tried to think clearly. Wouldn't it be better to get one kiss and have her mad at him, then risk never getting one? After all, once Ed came back then he'd _definitely_ have no chance, because Winry _obviously_ loved his brother, right?

Right?

But they had been getting along so well, and she'd even held his hand sometimes and…

Al searched her face. She was still looking at him with concern. He thought that maybe she _might_ feel something for him… but what if he was wrong? What if she rejected him? What if she tried to be nice about not having the same feelings for him as he did for her? Wouldn't that be even worse than her anger?

"Al?" she asked, bringing him out of his thoughts and he realized that he had stopped dabbing at her scratches and had been staring at her. He swallowed. His mouth was dry and he wasn't sure if he could speak if he wanted to. What if she knew what he was thinking? Was she already plotting his death? This was just so embarrassing...

"Al…" she said again. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

He blinked.

"Wha…?"

"Al, you've been dabbing my face with that for fifteen minutes already… So either the cuts are worse than you told me, or you're working up the courage to kiss me."

He was flabbergasted.

Completely.

She _knew_?

Did that mean she _wanted_ him to kiss her?

He boy set the cloth on the bed without taking his eyes from Winry. He would definitely say that she had given her permission. Well, at least, she hadn't seemed against it…

Al gently laid a shaky hand against her cheek, feeling Winry's soft, warm skin beneath his fingers. Swallowing again, Al slowly brought his head forward and as he did so, Winry's eyes fluttered shut as she waited expectantly.

Trying not to hyperventilate, Al breathed in her scent as he got nearer; it was the scent of oil and metal, but under all that he could smell the soap that she used. It was the kind that smelled like flowers… Finally, he pressed his lips gently against hers. Al forced his eyes to stay open. He didn't want to miss a moment of what was happening. He wanted all his senses involved.

At that moment he realized that his body did not understand this was only to be a chaste kiss. The pressure in his lower regions was becoming a little more than uncomfortable. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her, breaking the kiss.

Here she was, the object of his desires, on his bed... they were alone… he kissed her, and she'd let him…

What else would she let him do?

No.

No!

He forced the thoughts away.

She smiled softly at him, a small blush coming to her cheeks, then grimaced slightly at the sting from the scratches. "That was really sweet."

"Yeah…" he breathed.

Surprisingly, Winry looked down shyly. Shy was just not something he associated with her. "I've never been kissed before…" she whispered, then looked back up at him through her bangs.

He blushed a little. "I've never kissed anyone before either…" He wanted to ask her if she wanted another one, but he couldn't. What if he couldn't hold himself back?

No.

He didn't want to do anything that he shouldn't, and the best way to insure that was to not tempt himself.

Al looked down and picked up the cloth. He looked at it a moment before handing it to her. "I don't know if you want to see those scratches now that they've stopped bleeding…" His voice was soft, but it held a note of pleading in it too.

And for that, he hated himself.

She stared down at the cloth for a moment before taking it, then nodded and gave him a small half-smile. She was already learning how to smile without making her scratches reopen. Oh how he hoped she didn't know that he was trying to get her out of the room and away from him. He hoped she didn't know how weak he truly was…

"Thanks," she said quietly, getting up off the bed and heading toward the door.

"I'll be down in a minute," he croaked. "I need to take care of CinCin…"

She nodded and let herself out, shutting the door behind her.

"Yeah…" he whispered to himself. "I need to take care of CinCin…"

_And other things..._

Roy, sitting on the couch, bottle in one hand, looked down at the teenager whose head was currently lying in his lap. Ed was gazing up at him with a glazed look, one hand raised and tracing lines on Roy's chest.

* * *

"Jus' one more?" Ed asked in a slurred, pleading tone.

Roy shook his head. "I don't think so. You can't even stand up."

The boy pouted and said, "Well, neither can _you_."

He nodded. "That's true. And do you see me having any more shots?"

"But you had more than me…"

"I can handle more than you."

Ed grinned and reached clumsily for the bottle Roy was holding. "Then gimmy some 'a that…"

Roy took a swig from the almost empty whiskey bottle before moving it out of the boy's reach, then asked suddenly, "Why don't you make any noise when you jerk off?"

Ed's eyebrows knit together as he stared up in confusion. "Wha?"

"Yeah… I've been wondering for a while…"

Ed seemed to think about this for a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno… I guess 'cause 'a Al… I mean… ya know he never slept, right? When his soul was attached to the armor… So even when I was in the bathroom I had'ta be quiet… Guess it just kinda stuck…"

Roy nodded. It made sense.

"Cooome oon… jus' one drink…" This time Ed reached up with his automail arm, nearly knocking Roy in the face with his unsteadiness.

"Watch what you're doing with that!" he growled, pushing the metal arm back down.

Ed grinned, turned himself over onto his stomach, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He crawled over Roy's legs, then situated himself so that he had a leg on each side of Roy's.

Roy shook his head in amusement at his drunk lover. The boy wrapped his arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his neck. "Rooooy…" Ed whimpered.

Roy grinned. He loved hearing Ed say his name. "Whaaat?"

"What if I give you a blow job?" Ed whispered into the colonel's ear.

"You'll get 'that stuff' in your mouth."

"No, I mean will you lemmy have some of that?"

Ed pulled his head away and stared at Roy with a glazed look in his eyes. It was obvious the kid was plastered. The kid slid his body down so that he was kneeling on the ground and pulled on Roy's sweats.

Well, if Ed wanted to go down on him, Roy wasn't about to stop him. It was something Ed would probably never do when he was sober, or if he did, it wouldn't be for a long time. When Ed got the pants off, he positioned himself between Roy's legs and looked at Roy's semi-hard sex.

"Come on," Roy urged, petting the boy's head.

Suddenly, the boy began giggling. "You should be 'The _Bartender_ Alchemist'."

Roy rolled his eyes and pushed Ed's head down. It was a little harder than he should have, but his motor skills weren't exactly the best at the moment, and neither was his patience. "I thought you were going to suck me off," he said. No way was he going to let this opportunity pass by. After that he'd give Ed the bottle and let him drink until he passed out if that's what he wanted.

Ed resisted for a moment then took Roy's now hard erection into his mouth, or at least as much as he could. Roy roughly grabbed a fistful of Ed's hair and growled, "If you bite me I swear I'll kill you. Understand?"

Ed nodded and began giggling again, bumping his teeth against the soft flesh of Roy's penis. "Dammit, Ed!"

The boy mumbled something that vaguely resembled 'sorry', and tried again, moving his lips up and down over the intrusion in his mouth.

Roy moaned, half in pleasure, half in frustration. This had to be the worst blow job he'd ever received. When he couldn't take it any more, he forcefully grabbed both sides of Ed's head. "Just hold still, and keep your fucking teeth away from my cock," he growled as he began rocking his hips so that his erection thrust into Ed's mouth.

Roy heard a gagging sound escape from the boy, but he was past caring. He moaned, his heart pounding, his breathing erratic. He was going to do this the way _he_ wanted it, and if Ed didn't like it that was his problem. Roy stared hard into Ed's wide golden eyes as the teen struggled to take in all that was being forced into his mouth.

Even screwing the teen like this brought only a slightly more satisfactory feeling. He was so close, but dammit if this wasn't just the shittiest fuck session he'd ever had. The liquor he'd given Ed had cost more than what he'd paid out for better than this.

Tears were streaming down from Ed's eyes now, though whether from the alcohol or from the situation, Roy didn't care. What mattered right now was blowing his load, and dammit all if he wasn't going to do just that. He tightened his grip on Ed's head as the teen tried to move away.

"I said, _hold still,_ you little _shit_!" Roy hissed and thrust more quickly. He was sooo _fucking close_! Suddenly he felt the pleasure _finally_ reach the point of no return. With a loud, 'aaah', Roy exhaled loudly, cumming hard into Ed's mouth.

Ed tried to pull away, but Roy held him still. "Don't even think about it!" he growled. "I want you to swallow!" Ed shook his head, again trying to pull away, but Roy wouldn't let go. "_Swallow_ _dammit_! If you're going to act like a fucking _whore_, at least do it right!"

If Roy would have been less drunk, he would have let his brain recognize the hurt emotion in the boy's eyes.

But he wasn't.

And he didn't.

He watched as Ed hesitantly swallowed once, then a second time.

"Good boy," Roy murmured, releasing Ed's head. The teen gagged slightly as Roy's softening sex slid wetly from his mouth. Saliva mixed with sperm dripped from his tongue onto his chin and Ed lifted a shaky arm to wipe it away.

Roy watched for a moment, then grabbed Ed's shirt and pulled the boy roughly toward him, pressing his lips hard against his, then shoved his tongue into the younger alchemist's mouth. Roy tasted liquor, semen, a faint smoky smell from Ed's last smoke, and the ever present taste of 'Ed' all mixed together.

When he released him, Roy took a deep drink from the bottle, then thrust it into Ed's trembling hands before lifting his legs up onto the couch and lying down.

Roy closed his eyes. He could hear the swishing of the liquid in the bottle as Ed took a drink; could hear the gulping sounds he made, and then the coughing as the rough liquid burned the kid's throat.

His body felt warm and numb, and his consciousness drifted in the dark abyss of his mind. Roy was vaguely aware of someone climbing on top of him and a head resting on his chest.

None of that mattered.

All that mattered now was that he didn't have to think about anything anymore.

* * *

1 – CinCin is the name of Neo Diji's cat.

2 – This is an actual drink, although obviously Roy Mustang did not come up with it. And yes, you actually _do_ set it on fire before drinking it.


	21. Izumi

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Izumi**

Ed walked into the bedroom and scowled when he saw that Roy was still sleeping. Sighing, Ed shook his head and reached down to pick some clothes off the floor. They'd gone clothes shopping for Ed on Saturday and he'd picked out a pair of black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a black button up shirt.(1)

He sniffed the pants, then shrugged. As long as they smelled clean, that's what mattered… Letting the towel that hung around his waist fall to the floor, Ed dressed himself in the black pants and white shirt, leaving the shirt un-tucked, then picked the towel up and scrubbed at his loose, damp hair for a moment before tossing the towel into the corner.

He walked over to the side of the bed and shook Roy none too gently. "Hey, wake up! We're going to be late again if you don't get up."

Mustang opened one eye and peered sleepily at him. "huh…"

"Get up," Ed said irritably. "I'm leaving in ten minutes, with or without you. I'm tired of you blaming our being late on me."

Roy mumbled something, then grabbed the pillow and put it over his head. Rolling his eyes, Ed returned to the bathroom, wiped the fog off the mirror and braided his hair. As he left the bathroom, he passed Mustang who had finally dragged himself out of bed and gotten semi-dressed. Shaking his head, Ed headed for the kitchen to get some breakfast.

Mondays always seemed to be like this. Ed waking up first and Mustang barely able to get up, but by Friday it was opposite. He supposed that had a lot to do with how much the man drank on the weekends.

Ed pulled out a container of leftovers from yesterday's dinner and began eating it without bothering to heat it up. He was eager to get back to his research, and if he could, he would leave right now without waiting—not that he _couldn't_, but... He looked up as Mustang, hair combed and uniform straightened, walked into the kitchen. The man pulled out a container of orange juice and poured himself a glass, then opened the cupboard, pulled out a bottle labeled 'vodka' and added a little.

"Isn't it a little early to start drinking?" Ed murmured with a frown.

Mustang stirred the liquid for a moment before taking a drink, then said, "Don't be ridiculous Ed. This isn't 'drinking'. It's just a little something to get rid of my headache."

"Whatever…" Ed mumbled and took another bite of his food. It had been two weeks since the night they'd gotten drunk together. He'd only drunk a couple of times since then and only a little at that. It seemed that he didn't have a very high tolerance for alcohol and it really didn't take much to give him a buzz…

Ed's memories of that night weren't very clear. Although he could only remember bits and pieces, he had dreams… dreams that he would just blow off as nonsense if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd had woken up with a small bruise on each side of his head where Mustang's thumbs… He shook his head. He didn't like to think of his lover like that... holding him like… saying things like… Ed tried to tell himself it wasn't that big of a deal. Roy had been really drunk… and _he_ had offered in the first place…

Ed shoved the container of leftovers into Mustang's hands. "Here, you have the rest of this," he said and walked to the door to put on his boots.

Of course that hadn't been the only reason he hadn't really drank much since that night. There was also the fact that he'd had a horrible hangover the next morning. Ed couldn't remember ever being so sick…

"How's the leg?" Mustang asked as he put his own boots on.

Ed shrugged. "Good enough, though I could only adjust it a half inch. If I keep growing then I'll have to have an automail mechanic extend it the other half inch." As they left the apartment, Roy nodded, and Ed continued with a frown. "If I get taller than that I'll need to have a new one made…"

Mustang looked down at him and said, "You don't sound very happy about that…"

Ed shook his head and pulled out a cigarette. "Well… I'd need to go back to Rizembool…"

Mustang gave him a disapproving look as he lit up his new addiction. "Why haven't you called them yet?"

Ed didn't answer. What could he say? It was stupid, but he was embarrassed over what had happened, about how he'd acted. But that wasn't the whole reason… Al had never asked about how Ed got his body back, and as long as Ed stayed away there was no way that his brother _could_ ask about it…

Even so, Ed couldn't help feeling guilty at not calling Al, but he thought that it would be better this way. Better that Al couldn't find out…

* * *

Fletcher watched as his brother knocked on the door and waited. They had traveled by foot the last few weeks, wanting to spare the amount of money they had. The People's Government had given Russell enough for himself, but now there were two mouths to feed, not one, and traveling the whole way by train would have just taken too much of their reserve funds.

So they had walked and camped, and now here they were at the house of this great alchemist that guy had told them about. Whatever Fletcher had been expecting, it wasn't who he saw when the door opened.

A tall woman with dark hair looked down at them, then said, "Can I help you?"

Russell nodded and asked bluntly, "Are you Izumi?" The woman nodded. For a moment Russell looked unconvinced, then shrugged and said, "We heard you were a great alchemist and that you are against the military and we were wondering if we could talk to you for a few minutes."

The expression on the woman's face turned dark and she folded her arms. "Who are you?"

Fletcher moved to stand behind Russell. This woman was kind of scary…

"We're from the People's Army, and…"

"Go away."

"Eh… huh?" Russell said dumbly.

"I said, 'go away'. I'm not interested in the military and I'm not interested in the rebellion." Russell opened his mouth to say something, but she rode over him. "I'm not interested in any group that uses _children_ in their fighting or in telling people to join."

Russell folded his arms, mirroring the formidable woman. "Now you just wait a second. I'm _sixteen_. I'm an _adult_."

The dark-haired woman laughed scornfully. "Just because the government says that sixteen is an adult doesn't make it so. Sixteen is still a child as far as I'm concerned."

"I'm hardly a _child_," Russell said irritably, and Fletcher frowned. Sometimes his brother was just so stubborn and hard headed…

"_You_ may legally be an adult, but you'll have a hard time convincing me that _he_ isn't a child." The woman said, pointing at Fletcher.

Russell opened his mouth to say something, but the woman cut him off. "Now I want you to—" she began, but never finished. Suddenly, her hand flew to her mouth and she began coughing. Fletcher could see blood dripping from her fingers. The dark-haired woman fell to her knees, hacking even harder.

Russell hurried to her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, but instead of answering, the woman coughed a final time and passed out in Russell's arms.

* * *

Al looked around quickly before darting from the tree to the small shed near the house. He hurriedly let himself in and hid behind a large pile of spare parts. He held his breath for a moment—listening.

Nothing.

He breathed out in relief and let his eyes scan around the area of the shed that he could see. It was mostly filled with spare automail parts. At that he couldn't help but imagine a beautiful blonde mechanic digging through the piles…

He smiled a goofy smile, but it slipped when he heard a shouted, "Al! Al! Where are you?" Al shrank lower behind the pile, hoping she wouldn't come into the shed. "Al! Come on! You're being a baby about this!" He could hear her shouting, but it was getting farther away.

Al sighed in relief. Yes, he probably _was _being immature, but he didn't care… There was an empty space in the middle of the shed and again, Al grinned. He'd love to be alone in here with Winry. Maybe he could get another kiss. Maybe he could get more…

He shook his head. When did he become such a pervert? It seemed like all he could think about recently was… well… things that just weren't proper to do before you were married… Al could feel blood rush to his cheeks as he suddenly realized that his brother would totally love this new development.

Al sighed and ran a hand through his hair. In the two weeks since he had kissed Winry, he'd only had the courage to do it three other times. He thought about it all the time, but when he actually had the chance to do it, well… he just got so nervous. Each time was getting easier though.

He had an idea that Pinako knew something, because the old woman would look at him and make comments like, 'I think it's a good choice', or just look at him as if she were inspecting him, then nod without saying anything at all. It was all very nerve wracking.

He cringed again when he heard Winry yelling for him, but he refused to go out there. He'd said 'no'. Why couldn't she just accept that? This should be his decision… It wasn't fair that she should bully him into something that he didn't want…

* * *

Fletcher poked at his food and glanced at the door that led to the woman's bedroom.

"She'll be alright."

The young alchemist glanced at the owner of the voice; a large man with a dark beard. Fletcher sighed and nodded.

When the woman—Izumi—had collapsed, Russell had yelled at Fletcher to go to the meat shop that was connected to the house to find someone. That was where he'd found the big man. The man had immediately carried the woman off, and when he came back, he'd looked at them for a long time, then asked if they wanted to stay for lunch. Of course they had agreed. How could they pass up a free lunch? Besides, Russel still wanted to talk to Izumi.

Fletcher shook his head. It was obvious to him that she wasn't interested. He really wished his brother would learn some tact.

* * *

Ed pulled out another book, flipped through it and put it back.

Not what he needed.

He scanned the books in the small room at the Central Library. These books were particularly old and quite valuable, thus they were kept away from all the other books. Normally the two librarians that worked this branch didn't let people in here, but Ed frequented the library so often that they'd finally given him permission to search for his own books. They just didn't have the time to find things for him all day.

The sound of the door opening met Ed's ears and he looked up to see Mustang slipping into the room. The man shut the door, and walked swiftly to where Ed was standing. Before he could say anything, Mustang wrapped his arms around him and kissed him hard. For a moment Ed was too stunned to move, then he reared his head back away from the kiss.

"Are you _insane?_" he whispered savagely, glancing quickly to the door, but the older man simply moved his head past Ed's face and kissed the teen's neck. Suddenly, Ed felt the neck of his shirt being pulled back. "What are you…?" Ed began to ask, but stopped when he felt the man let go of his shirt. Mustang draped himself more fully over the shorter alchemist and a second later he felt the top of the back part of his pants being pulled away from his body.

Ed decided that enough was enough. He didn't want one of the librarians to come in on this. He pushed against Mustang's chest, and surprisingly the man moved away easily. Mustang grinned down at him, then snatched another kiss before turning to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ed asked irritably. "And what the hell was…" but he never got a chance to finish.

The colonel opened the door, turned around, and said, still grinning, "Just came by to get some information. Thank you for your cooperation, Major." With that, Mustang gave him a mock solute and left.

* * *

Fletcher shifted nervously on his feet as he listened to Russell and Izumi argue back and forth. He would have preferred to apologize for intruding and wished her good health before leaving things be. But not Russell. His brother was much more aggressive than he was and when Russell had something on his mind, he didn't leave it alone.

That was how they'd ended up joining the People's Army.

Russell had heard of how they wanted to create a government where the people ruled and the military didn't have ultimate control. Russell had liked the idea so much that they'd immediately joined up, or at least Russell had immediately joined up and dragged a reluctant Fletcher with him. When they'd found out that Fletcher was an alchemist, they'd talked him into signing up as well.

Fletcher didn't see how his alchemy could possibly help in a war. He loved plants and most of the alchemy he'd studied had to do with the study of plants. Of course he knew some chemistry too, but that was Russell's specialty, not his.(2)

Fletcher let his gaze travel around the room. His eyes rested on a small picture frame that sat on a long dresser.(3) When he saw who was in the picture, his eyes widened a bit and he walked over and picked it up.

In the picture, the dark-haired woman was grinning while bending over and resting her hands on the heads of two young boys. One of the boys, a sandy-haired child wearing a tan short sleeved shirt and a black under shirt, was smiling happily with his hands raised. The other boy, this one a bit shorter with golden hair and a black tee-shirt, had his arms folded and was looking away from the camera with a grumpy look on his face.

The boy looked just like…

Fletcher turned his head and looked quickly at the woman in the bed before glancing back at the photo.

The boy looked just like Ed Elric.

* * *

Winry opened the door to the shed where they kept their spare parts and searched the dim interior with her eyes. Pressing her lips together, she crept quietly inside. It didn't take her long to find who she was looking for. She mechanic smiled softly. Alphonse had tried to hide behind a pile of parts, but unfortunately for him he was just too tall for it to be very effective. Now if it had been Ed… She tried to hold back a chuckle as she walked around the pile.

Al was sitting on the floor, back against the wall; legs sprawled out, and fast asleep. She wondered idly how long he had been in here. Winry got onto her hands and knees as quietly as she could and crawled over to him. He wasn't getting away from her now. Slowly she crawled between his legs in an effort to get closer. She would have gone around, but there wasn't enough space with the pile of parts on one side and another wall on the other.

Peaceful.

He looked peaceful, and she was glad. For the first little while after Ed had run off, Al hadn't looked calm in his sleep…

Winry decided that she would wake him with a kiss. After all, he hadn't kissed her in days and she really wanted another one. Winry had a hard time sometimes being patient. Alphonse was just so shy and unsure of himself at times… She sighed softly. Many people their age in Rizembool were already married and some even had a child or two... It was hard sometimes, pretending she didn't care what the other girls said about her; that she would never get married…

But it did bother her.

She had always thought that when Ed came back to Rizembool for good, then they'd get married. But, of course, it had been a silly dream. It had been enough to keep her from feeling too depressed about not being courted though, and she supposed that's what mattered.

Now though, here was Alphonse; he liked her, and she liked him. Winry was sure she would be happy to be married to her childhood friend. He would make a good husband, so why was he being so slow about it?

She bent close and kissed him softly on the lips and smiled when he murmured her name. For that she was happy to give him another kiss. A moment later she felt a hand touch her rear and she shrieked in surprise.

Al instantly came awake with a jolt, and their heads collided together painfully. Winry held her head in her hands, then growled irritably, "You touched my butt!"

"I'm sorry!" Al groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I don't remember! I was asleep! I swear!"

She glance back at him and saw that his face was a dark red. Good. He should be embarrassed. She didn't want to be embarrassed by herself.

"I'm sorry," Al said again. Actually it was more of a plea, as if he thought she was going to beat him or something.

"It's fine," she grumbled. It wasn't the fact that he had touched her rear that was so embarrassing. She actually didn't really mind it, although it was a bit embarrassing since she'd never been touched there before… but it was the way that she had reacted that was the most humiliating thing. Shrieking like a scared little girl!

Instead of focusing on her embarrassment she got back to why she was looking for him in the first place and said, "Let's go back to the house. You're not getting out of this."

* * *

Fletcher walked back beside Russell, still holding the picture. Al had told him once about what had happened(4); about why he wore the armor. Of course, after that, Fletcher knew that Al didn't _wear_ the armor, he _was_ the armor… It had been one of those times that they'd met up in their travels. Ed and Russell had been arguing, as always, and the two younger brothers had left them at it.

It had been a solemn conversation. Al had spoken of his mother, and about his brother's desperation to get her back. He'd spoken about the human transmutation they had attempted and the horror of that night. He'd spoken of how Ed lost his limbs and why his older brother had decided to join the ranks of the State Alchemists.

Fletcher would never forget that conversation.

Al had given Fletcher permission to tell Russell, but only Russell, and only if he thought his brother could keep it a secret. Fletcher had always meant to tell his brother, but the right time never seemed to come up.

Alphonse had also spoken of their teacher and the training they went through.

Fletcher had never had an alchemy teacher. What he'd learned had been self taught; lucky for him that he was so brilliant. But this woman… she could teach him… that was, if she would be willing to teach him…

Fletcher waited for a break in the conversation, then said, "Excuse me…" Izumi and Russell both turned to look at him in surprise and Fletcher frowned at the thought that they'd probably forgotten he was there. "You're Ed and Al's teacher right?"

The woman blinked in surprise, then said, "I was. Do you know those two good for nothing ex-students of mine?"(5)

Of course… Al had told him that she had refused to teach them any more too… but it hadn't sounded like they were on bad terms…

"Wait a minute," Russell interrupted, "How did you know that?"

Fletcher didn't say anything, simply turned the picture frame over in his hands and showed it to his brother. Russell took it from him and stared at it for a long time before saying in a mocking tone, "Too bad for him he hasn't grown since then."

When Izumi began laughing, the two brothers turned and looked at her. "Well, I suppose you do know him, if you're making jokes about his height."

Russell grinned then pointed to the other boy. "Who's this?"

"It's Al," Fletcher said automatically.

Russell glared down at him. "We've never seen what Al really looks like. How would you know that was him?" Fletcher looked down at his shoes and fidgeted. It was actually a guess that it was Alphonse, but how to tell Russel that without telling the full story…?

"He told you."

He looked up into Izumi's eyes and nodded.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Russell said in frustration. Fletcher knew his brother didn't like not knowing what was going on. "_Who _told you _what?_"

Fletcher was torn. He wanted to tell his brother, but what would Russell say when he found out that Fletcher had known all this time and not told him?

"It's alright," the woman said with a small smile on her face. Fletcher's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You see… Ed did it. He got Al's body back."

* * *

"I don't want one," Al said defensively.

"Too bad. You're getting one," Winry growled.

"No," Al said, trying to show that he would not be bullied into something he didn't want.

Winry looked at him for a moment in frustration, then said sweetly, "Al… for me…? Please?"

He groaned. It wasn't fair. She shouldn't do stuff like that. It was cheating… "But I want to grow it out…" Al tried to explain.

Winry pouted and gave him _that look_… "I really like it short, Al. For me… please?"

Sighing in defeat, Al moved his hands away from his head and nodded in resignation. At that, Winry grinned happily, walked behind where he sat, and proceeded to give him the first haircut he'd had since getting his body back.

* * *

Ed stuck his head into Mustang's office to tell the man he was going home, but stopped what he was about to say when he saw two men standing in front of the colonel's desk. The two men turned and looked back at where Ed was poking his head into the room. Mustang made a small shake of his head.

He eyed the two men. The first one was General Hakuro; Ed had a bone to pick with that one… The second was Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer, the man who took over Maes Hughes's job when he died.

Correction.

_Colonel_ Frank Archer, the man had been promoted recently and had taken a different job in a more 'prestigious' department.

Whatever.

Everyone knew what an ass kisser the man was. The man was slime, and Ed couldn't be more unhappy to see him.

"Er… Sorry to interrupt…" Ed mumbled, "I just was going to let you know I was leaving for the night."

Mustang nodded. "That's fine, Fullmetal. Goodnight."

"Yeah, night…" Ed said and slipped his head out of the room and shut the door.

He sighed heavily. Mustang did _not_ look happy…

* * *

When Fletcher finished speaking there was silence in the room for almost a full minute before Russell ran a hand through his hair and whispered, "Wow… I never knew…" He gazed at Fletcher for a moment with a hurt look on his face, then said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Fletcher sighed and looked down at the floor. "I just… well… Al said I could, but… I don't know, there never seemed a right time to talk about it and I didn't think it was something to talk about lightly…"

He felt a hand touch him and he looked up to see Russell clasping him on the shoulder. His older brother smiled faintly and said, "It's fine. I understand." Fletcher sighed in relief. He didn't want Russell to think he would hide something from him. They were always pretty open with each other…

Looking over at Izumi, Fletcher said, "But you said that Ed got Al's body back?"

She nodded. "That's right. It's been a little over three months now."

"That's really great!" Fletcher exclaimed, then asked eagerly, "But how did he do it?"

Izumi frowned. "We went to visit them in Rizembool for about a week; this was about a month after it happened. I wanted to ask Ed about it…" she trailed off for a moment before going on. "From what Alphonse and Winry told me, Ed had been quite moody, though I saw very little of that side while I was there. He also avoided being alone with me at all costs. I think he was aware that I had every intention of asking him how it happened."

She paused for a moment, then continued. "Alphonse doesn't remember how it happened. I asked him if he had asked Ed about it, but he said that he was too nervous. He said that part of him really didn't want to know."

"Oh…" Fletcher murmured.

There was silence in the room for several minutes before Fletcher spoke again. "Mrs. Curtis…"

She waved a hand. "Izumi will be fine."

He nodded. "Izumi… I was wondering… would you be willing to be my teacher? I already know some alch—"

"No," the woman said, cutting him off.

Russell looked down in surprise. "What are you talking about Fletcher?"

Fletcher ignored his brother for the moment and said, "Just for a few—"

"I said 'no'," Izumi barked. "I have no intentions of taking on any more students. I have no wish to train more _idiots_ who plan to use what they learn to serve militant means."

"But I wouldn't—" Fletcher cut in, but she overrode him.

"Besides, as much as I despise admitting it, I'm just not healthy enough. I couldn't be for you what I was to Edward and Alphonse."

Fletcher sighed and nodded. "I understand," he murmured in disappointment.

"Now, I'm assuming the two of you plan on staying in this town for a little while. We have extra rooms, but don't think I'm going to let you freeload off me. Go ask Sig what you can do to help him in the meat shop for a couple hours a day and that will pay for room and board."

"Who says we want to stay with _you_?" Russell growled, but Fletcher stepped forward to be the voice of reason.

"Thank you very much, Izumi. We really appreciate your hospitality." After he was done speaking, Fletcher stepped on Russell's foot to stop anymore rude remarks.

* * *

Ed leaned against the kitchen counter and stared at the cupboard where Mustang's liquor was stored. He thought about the look on his lover's face before he'd left. If the man didn't work late, which was unlikely given that he always worked late, then he'd probably just come home and drink…

He supposed there was nothing really _wrong_ with it… After all, Roy never really got very drunk on the weekdays, not like he had been that night… Ed tapped his fingers on the counter as he thought. He wasn't sure _why_ it bothered him so much, thinking about that night.

But it did.

He brought his real fingers up to his temple and touched the skin. The bruises were gone now. They'd been pretty faint to begin with…

Ed sighed.

This was stupid. So Mustang got a little rough with him when he was drunk. No big deal. Ed had to admit that the blowjob had probably been a pretty bad one anyway. He kind of didn't blame the man.

_But what about him calling you a whore?_ his mind asked.

Ed folded his arms. It wasn't as if the colonel had _actually_ called him that, exactly… Ed supposed it must be bothering him because of what he'd said to Winry. He could kind of relate now, in a way.

But it wasn't as if he and Winry ever had any sort of relationship. Winry cared for Al, that much seemed clear from how much time she'd spent with him at the hospital, and Al for her… It probably would have been worse if Al had called her what Ed had.

Ed pulled the hair tie out of his hair and began unbraiding it. He was tired, and all of this thinking was making him even more tired. He was just making a big deal out of nothing.

After all… It wasn't as if Mustang had some sort of drinking problem.

Right?

* * *

1) Just a few things I swiped from the manga. Ed was wearing a black shirt and black pants when he was swallowed by Gluttony, and he was wearing a white button up shirt, black pants and a long black coat when he went to return Hawkeye's gun. I thought those two outfits looked really nice on him.

2) I have no idea what is the truth in the series since it really doesn't expound on it, but I liked the idea of having Russell be more of a chemist, and Fletcher be more of the alchemist. Besides, you see Fletcher do more alchemy than Russell in the series, where in you see Russell doing more chemistry work (mostly with the red stone).

3) Episode 32

4) This is not from the manga or the series.

5) As you may remember this story leaves the series when Ed and Al visit Dante when they are staying with Izumi. A note to remember is that nothing out of the ordinary happened when they were visiting Dante.


	22. Major Elric

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Major Elric**

"You wanted to see me?" Ed asked. Mustang looked up from what he'd been reading and nodded.

"Shut the door, would you?" Mustang said mildly as he collected the documents he'd been poring over and put them off to the side. After Ed shut the door, the colonel waved vaguely at the couch and said, "Sit."

Nodding, Ed sat with a feeling of amused confusion and watched as Mustang got up, walked around his desk, and leaned on it with a grin. "I have something for you."

Ed blinked, "Something for me?" Mustang nodded, and when he eyed Ed up and down, Ed felt a flash of irritation. "This isn't going to be like in the library a few days ago is it?" If the colonel wanted to do things like that it was fine, just not at work.

Chuckling, Mustang crossed the room to where a brown cardboard box sat in the corner. "Funny you should mention that…" he said, then picked up the box and set it on the table that sat between the two couches before taking a seat on the sofa opposite Ed.

"Well?" Mustang prompted when Ed only sat there giving the box a strange look. Sighing, he grabbed the box and put it on the floor. He hadn't been sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn't what he saw when he opened it.

"Are you serious?" he asked in surprise. When the colonel nodded, a grin still on his face, Ed turned his attention back to the box, eying the contents. After a moment, he reached in, pulled out the first thing that had caught his eye and laid it on his lap.

The blue military jacket was crisp and new, the creases still to be seen when he unfolded it. Ed ran his fingers over the golden braided rope that adorned the right side of the jacket. It had a rough, yet silky, feel to it. Surprise filled him when he touched the blue fabric. It felt nothing like the older, worn jacket that Mustang wore. The texture of the new material was stiff and scratchy, and it caught on the dry skin of his fingers.

Ed swallowed hard as he brushed his fingers, almost reverently, over the striped indication of his rank. It seemed odd to him that a small bit of raised cloth could bring such a reaction from him. After all, he'd never wanted to be in the military, and had been glad that they hadn't had a uniform his size. But now…

But now he had gotten comfortable with the job he'd been given, gotten to know the other officers on a level he'd never known before. He was part of a team.

Ed looked up at the colonel.

He was part of Mustang's team.

That was why the uniform brought such emotions to him. Although it was supposed to show he was in the military, for Ed it didn't mean that at all. The uniform was an outward sign that he was truly a part of Mustang's core group; an accepted addition.

"Thanks…" Ed said, trying to keep the emotions he was feeling out of his voice, but failing miserably. He looked up and his forehead wrinkled at the look on Mustang's face. "What?"

"You're _thanking_ me?" the colonel asked, shock wove through the amazement in his voice.

"Yeah," he replied softly.

"Hm, well, I was expecting some sort of rant…" The older alchemist trailed off for a moment, then looked at him sheepishly. "I actually had a whole speech prepared as to why you needed to start wearing a uniform now that you can fit into one." Ed glared at Mustang. He didn't like being reminded that he was barely fitting into the smallest uniform available. He looked at the tag and cringed. The size was actually slightly too big…

Mustang must have noticed, because he said, "It's close enough, and with the way you're growing it will fit you just fine." Ed nodded and looked back into the box at where the dress jacket, two pair of pants, boots, and the long black overcoat still lay. "Since it's pretty much the end of the day, and Friday, I'm not going to require you to wear it today, but I expect to see you dressed in it come Monday morning." Mustang said in a brisk businesslike fashion. The colonel looked quickly at the door, then leaned forward and whispered, "But I'd like to see them on you tonight…"

Ed rolled his eyes and put the jacket back in the box. "Pervert."

* * *

"I've decided to go to Rizembool."

At that proclamation, everyone turned and stared at Russell. There was mild surprise on both Izumi and Sig's face, but on Fletcher's there was pure dismay.

"What do you think you'll accomplish by doing that?" Izumi asked and took a bite of her dinner.

"I want to talk to Ed and Al about the People's Government."

She shook her head. "I don't think you'll have much luck there."

"Why not?" he asked irritably.

"Simple," she said, then pointed. "Pass me the pepper please." Russell handed her the pepper and waited impatiently for her to continue. After tasting her food to make sure it was how she wanted it, Izumi said, "First, Edward is no longer in Rizembool."

At this, Russell's eyes widened. "What? Where is he?" He had just assumed that they would stay in their home town since there was no need for them to wander around anymore.

Izumi chewed on her steak and gazed thoughtfully at him for a moment. "No one knows," she said finally.

"No one… but… not even Al?" Fletcher asked in concern.

She shook her head. "No. Not even Al."

"But… _why_?" Fletcher cried. "They're_ always_ together…"

Sighing, Izumi put her fork down and sat back in her chair. "They had a fight. Ed broke some of Alphonse's ribs then ran off. It's been almost six weeks and no one has heard from him."

"I don't believe it…" Fletcher said in a soft quavering voice.

"Believe it. I only found out a couple of weeks ago myself. Al has been calling around trying to find out if anyone has any information."

Russell took a drink, then said, "You mean he hasn't gone looking for him?"

The woman snorted. "He would if he could, but fortunately Winry has kept him from being so stupid. His body needs to heal. Of course, I don't know how long she'll be able prevent him from wandering off given that his body has already healed quite a bit."

"Winry?" Russell asked.

Izumi grinned. "A childhood friend of Ed and Al's. She knows how to keep them in line."

_Keep them in line? _Russell thought with a frown. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet this 'Winry'… "Well, fine then. Ed isn't there, but I can still talk to Al," Russell said stubbornly.

Izumi sighed. "I think you'll have a hard time convincing Alphonse to join your cause."

"I'm still going," Russell growled.

"But, brother…" Fletcher pleaded. Russell sighed and shook his head. His younger brother still had hopes that he could convince Izumi to teach him. That was part of why he hadn't mentioned leaving before. Russell didn't want Fletcher to stay. They weren't meant to be apart…

"We're going, Fletcher," he said shortly.

Fletcher looked from Russell to Izumi in hurt frustration, then stood up and ran out of the room.

* * *

Ed looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Despite the size being slightly too big, the uniform looked rather nice on him. He turned to the side and admired himself, then ran a hand over the front of the jacket.

_Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Edward Elric, _he thought to himself. It just sounded so… official…

That had always been his title, always been his rank, but he'd never really thought of himself as a major. Sometimes he thought of himself as the Fullmetal Alchemist, but that was usually when he wanted something, wanted to brag, or had a job to do.

He fingered the lapel, then touched the raised area on one of his shoulders where a golden star and two yellow bands on each side of it proudly proclaimed his rank to anyone who wanted to know.

Ed wasn't sure why, but for some reason that made him feel much more… adult… At seventeen, Ed already considered himself an adult, and of course he was, since the legal age was sixteen, but this seemed to add weight to his age. A symbol of maturity and responsibility…

There was a knock on the door. "Ed, you've been in there for a half hour. How long does it take to change?"

Sighing, he opened the door and looked at the impatient man on the other side. Ed felt a slight blush creep over his cheeks when Mustang stepped back and swept his gaze hungrily over his body.

"You look… _amazing_," Roy breathed after a moment, then stepped forward and ran his hands over the uniform. "You look… very hot. Very _sexy_…" Ed felt blood rush to his face and he was sure he was blushing furiously now. Mustang grabbed him and pushed him against the hallway wall, then bent down and ran his tongue wetly up Ed's neck while pushing his body against Ed's smaller one. "I want you," the older man whispered roughly and ground the erection, hidden behind his own military pants, against Ed.

"Roy…" Ed moaned as Mustang began sucking on his neck and eagerly running his hands over every inch of Ed's body that he could reach.

Suddenly the weight of the other man lifted slightly and Ed looked up to see Mustang staring down at him with lust filled eyes. He licked his lips and said breathily, "Ed… salute me."

Ed's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

Mustang slid his fingers down the rough fabric of Ed's uniform. "Salute me… please…" he said again, a note of pleading in his voice.

Ed blushed, thinking that this was a bit kinky, but after a second lifted his right hand and snapped a sharp salute. "Colonel, sir," he added for good measure and was rewarded with a delighted grin. Ed moved to put his hand down, but Mustang quickly grabbed onto his arm and held it there.

"No… wait… hold it there... I want to burn this into my memory. The first time Major Elric salutes me…" Ed rolled his eyes, but gasped slightly when he felt the man reach down and fondle him. "Hold it…" the colonel coaxed, grinning lecherously.

Ed's breathing became shallow and he had to open his mouth to get more air. "If you make me cum in my pants, I swear you'll be sorry…" he growled, but the threat was softened by the moan he let out after.

"_Reeeaally_?" Mustang asked in amusement. "Maybe I want to see you cum like this. Every time you salute me after this I'll be able to think of how you looked the first time while I got you off…"

"You bastard…" Ed moaned, but made no move to get away, or to stop the man. Instead he ground his hard erection forward into Mustang's hand.

Mustang's grin widened and he said, "That's no way to talk to your commanding officer, Major Elric. For that you can just keep saluting me until your arm goes numb."

"It's _automail,_ you dumbass," Ed panted. "I could keep it up all day."

"Could you _really_?" Mustang breathed, insinuating something else, and rubbed his palm against Ed a little harder.

"My _arm_, Roy!" Ed burst out.

"Colonel."

"What?" Ed asked and sighed in relief and frustration when Mustang's hand moved away and undid the top button on the pants.

"Call me 'colonel'," Mustang breathed. "Just for now."

Ed blushed at where this was going, but realized he didn't mind and decided if they were going to play that way, then he'd just have to put a little more effort into it.

"Yes, sir. Colonel, sir…" Ed said as his pants fell down to his ankles.

"That's more like it, Major," Mustang murmured and touched his fingers to Ed's sex. "It's good to see that you can stand at attention so long."

"Fuck you, _sir,_" Ed replied snidely. His eyes widened as the colonel grabbed onto his hard cock and pulled him forward a bit, crushing their lips together. Mustang forced his tongue into his Ed's mouth and passionately ravaged him for a moment before pulling away.

"I think it will be the other way around, Major Elric," Mustang breathed and let go of Ed's erection when he bucked his hips.

Ed growled as he watched his superior officer step away and inspect him. The man's dark eyes raked over him, then, with a grin, stepped forward and adjusted the arm Ed was saluting with since it had slackened.

"I think I could look at this all day…" the colonel murmured in delight, then touched his fingers lightly to Ed's cock, making it jump slightly. Mustang brushed his fingers over the opening at the tip where clearish precum was dripping over the strained reddish skin, and spread it lightly over the head. Ed, panting hard, pushed his hips forward in a desperate attempt to get some relief, but his lover pulled back and his thrust met only air.

"Is there something you'd like to _request_, Major…?" Mustang asked in an 'official' tone.

For a moment Ed growled in the back of his throat, forgetting that this was a game, not reality, then he pushed it aside and said, trying to sound subservient, "Colonel, sir… permission to…" He stopped, realizing what he was going to have to ask, and blushed.

Mustang folded his arms and leaned back against the opposite hall wall and waited, an eager, expectant look on his face. Trying not to think of how embarrassing this was, Ed said, "Permission to cum, sir?"

With the arrogant look Ed had seen many times before, Mustang moved over and skimmed his fingers along the skin of Ed's penis, and he gasped at the need that small touch ignited in him. He bucked his hips forward, his body begging for more.

"Permission _denied,_" the colonel whispered near his ear and moved his hand away once again.

"What?!" Ed gasped in shock.

Mustang grinned down at him and said, "Ask again." For a moment Ed could only stare at Mustang in disbelief. He was beginning to tremble from the strain and Ed wondered vaguely if his body would ejaculate anyway.

"Sir…" Ed began again, more meekly this time. "Permission to cum…" he swallowed hard; his throat was dry from breathing through his mouth, and added pleadingly, "Please…"

Mustang let his eyes travel over the young, half naked body, then reached over and let the tip of his finger drag along the vain on the underside of Ed's erection. He tried again to thrust forward, but the dark haired man grabbed one of his hips with his free hand and held him still.

"I didn't say you could _move_, Major," the colonel murmured.

Ed thought he was going to die. All of the blood in his body seemed to have gathered in his groin, leaving the rest of his body cold and weak. He started to move his automail arm down out of the salute, but it was quickly grabbed and put back.

"I didn't say you could stop saluting either."

When Ed tried to move his hips again, Mustang stepped back, letting the teen's cock thrust at nothing. Sweat trickled from his forehead and down the side of his face. He growled in the back of his throat, and almost swore at the man, but pushed the anger away. "Please…" he begged. He had a feeling this type of a reaction would get him what he wanted. "Colonel…"

Mustang reached his hand forward, undid the buttons on the military jacket and pushed it open to reveal the black tanktop worn beneath. Ed swallowed hard and panted heavily. This wasn't what he wanted dammit! Moaning in pleasure and agony, Ed bucked his hips and again Mustang moved away.

"Hold still," the colonel commanded.

Hold still?

He looked at Mustang with pleading eyes, but the man only said, "That is an order, Major Elric."

For a moment the two looked at each other before Ed realized his superior officer was waiting for a confirmation. In frustration, Ed groaned, "Yes, sir. Colonel Mustang, sir…"

A thrilled grin spread across Mustang's face and he moved his hand over to Ed's chest once again. He let loose a moan as Mustang's hands slipped under his shirt, glided across his sweaty skin, and snagged his fingers gently on his hard nipples.

"I _can't_…" Ed groaned desperately, the pressure in his groin becoming unbearable. "_Please_… I _need_…"

Mustang stuck out his tongue and ran the tip over Ed's dry lips as he slid one of his hands down to Ed's hard cock. He cried out softly as Mustang wrapped his hand around his erection.

Ed looked up at Mustang and saw that he was watching him intently, then suddenly he didn't notice the man's gaze at all as the hand around his erection slowly began a pumping motion.

"Don't cum. You don't have permission," Mustang murmured.

One.

Ed moaned and clenched his teeth together, trying to keep himself from thrusting back.

Two.

"Major…" the colonel said in a warning voice.

After the third motion of Mustang's hand, Ed couldn't hold back any longer. Abandoning the last shred of self control he possessed, he fucked Mustang's hand. It only took a couple of thrusts before he felt the pressure explode into the most amazing climax he'd ever had.

Ed opened his mouth wider as he tried to gasp in enough air, and his hands grabbed onto Mustang's uniform in a desperate attempt to steady himself. He rested his head against the man's chest almost sobbing from the pleasure.

A moment later he felt Mustang plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Major," Mustang whispered. "I don't recall giving you permission to cum." Ed lifted his head and blinked at the man. A slow grin was spreading across the colonel's face. "I think for your insubordination, you should be _punished_…"

* * *

Izumi sighed and put the last of the dishes from dinner in the sink. After Fletcher had run off, there had been silence around the table for several minutes before Russell left the table as well.

In a way, they reminded her of Edward and Alphonse. The older was so stubborn and quick to anger, though not as much as Ed, and the younger more mellow. Fletcher was definitely a follower, as Al tended to be.

She leaned against the counter and folded her arms. It was obvious that the boy was upset because he still hadn't convinced her to teach him, more than about leaving. Izumi could also tell that Russell was happy about her refusing to teach him.

The two brothers were very close. Like Ed and Al. Only…

She frowned.

Only… _not_ like Ed and Al.

Sometimes she would catch a look being passed between them, or a touch, or… There was just something that wasn't quite right there. Over the past five days or so that the boys had been staying with her, she'd thought about it a lot, and she wasn't happy with the conclusion.

But she had no proof.

She was tempted to allow the boy to stay with her when Russell left. It was true she couldn't be for him what she had been for Ed and Al, but she could teach him some things. He was very intelligent, and Izumi had no doubt that, like a sponge, he'd soak up whatever knowledge she gave him. It was also obvious that he had no desire to be with the rebellion, but he was there for his brother.

Of course, none of that was why she was considering allowing him to stay. They were only points that worked in his favor. If she was right about the relationship between the two boys, then she wanted to get him out of it. She wanted to protect Fletcher, even if he didn't realize he needed it.

* * *

Kain Fuery pushed his glasses up with a finger and looked around nervously. It was well after midnight and the streets were devoid of anything living. Every shadow seemed to hide some dark being that would surely jump out and attack him any moment.

Kain normally walked back to the dorms with Falman, but with the late hours he'd been working recently, he'd been walking home alone. Not that he minded working late, because he didn't. He'd seen how hard the colonel had been working, and he wanted to help the colonel look great this year for his evaluation. This case they'd been working on, trying to find the spies for the People's Government, was his main priority; and, in fact, he worked on it every spare moment he had.

He put a hand over his mouth and yawned. Of course, Kain wanted to look good for his own evaluation too, but it wasn't just about evaluations. There was a mystery to solve and he wanted to solve it. But then, this enigma could have some devastating consequences if it wasn't puzzled out soon.

Suddenly there was the sound of glass breaking, then darkness as several of the street lights went out. Kain stopped and looked around in the blackness nervously. He jumped when he felt arms reach around him, one arm wrapped around his chest, and one hand covering his mouth.

"Good evening, Master Sergeant Fuery. We'd like to leave a message for your commanding officer," whispered whoever was holding him.

_We?_ Kain thought fearfully, and moved his eyes around desperately. He couldn't see anyone in the darkness, but he could hear the sound of pebbles crunching.

"Kind of… an _object_ lesson," the voice said with an evilness that made Kain's skin crawl.

He stiffened in terror. _Object lesson...?_

"You see… curiosity can kill dogs just as easily as cats(1)…"

As soon as the words were out of the man's mouth, Kain was kicked hard in the stomach. His breath was completely taken away. He wanted to scream, but couldn't find the air to do it. The man behind him released his grip and Kain crumpled to the ground.

He grunted when another kick met his ribs on one side, then on the other. The world seemed to spin out of control as he was kicked savagely in the head. His glasses few off his face and he could hear them slide roughly against the ground. Soon blows were coming from every side. He could feel muscles in his body tearing, and bones breaking. Despite the noise coming from his attackers, the sounds of his body being broken and torn were loud in his ears, though he was sure no one else could hear it.

Kain wasn't sure how much time passed, but suddenly a voice called out, "Enough!"

The attack stopped and he could hear them stepping away from him. Every part of his body hurt. Blood gushed from his nose and he felt wet stickiness drip down from cuts and scrapes on his skin. His head spun and he thought he was going to be sick, but he tried to hold onto the thought that he needed to get away, needed to warn the colonel, needed to…

Suddenly, fingers raked through his hair and grabbed the black locks roughly. Kain's head was pulled up, and in the darkness he heard, "It's time to finish this" before his head was slammed down to the ground.

And after that…

Nothing.

* * *

1) From the phrase 'Curiosity killed the cat."


	23. Fuery

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Fuery**

Warm…

Soft and snuggly…

Ed burrowed deeper into the comfort that surrounded him and felt something wrap around him.

An arm.

He cracked an eye open, then the other and realized that he was cuddled up next to Mustang's chest. He sighed contentedly at how the pillow under his head, the blanket around him and the sheets below him felt.

This was just the best. Waking up slowly in such a comfortable place, in someone's arms after…

Oh yeah…

Ed blushed at the memories of the previous night. Someone had forgotten to send him the memo stating that last night was 'kink night'. Not that he'd minded, but really… _where_ did Mustang come up with some of that stuff?

"You're not getting up already are you?" Roy murmured tiredly. Ed shrugged, then bucked his hips slightly. "That's not what I meant," Mustang said, chuckling.

"Doesn't matter what you _meant_, that's what I heard," Ed said slyly, then quoted, "When communicating, the speaker should always consider how his or her words will be taken by the listener. In this way, the speaker can avoid misunderstandings with…" Ed stopped reciting when a pillow was plopped onto his face.

"That's it. From now on, I'm monitoring what you check out from the library," Mustang growled.

Ed laughed easily. "That was actually from one of the books _here_."

Mustang cracked an eye open and said, "What?"

"That's right," Ed said with a nod. "_Your_ book. Something titled, 'Avoiding Miscommunication' if I remember correctly."

Roy opened both eyes and stared at him in confusion for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Oh, _that_ book. That was from some class I had to take for commissioned officers. I can't believe you read that. It's incredibly boring. I haven't even touched it since the class ended."

"Maybe you should read it again."

"I don't need to; I can communicate what I want without that damn book."

"I don't know…" Ed began, but suddenly Mustang rolled on top of him, kissed him hard, and ground his hips against him with undeniable need.

When the kiss broke, Mustang asked, "Misunderstand that?"

When Ed only grinned, Mustang ran his hands down Ed's naked body, then grabbed the pillow and told Ed to lift his rear. When he did, he stuffed it under Ed's lower back then reached over and pulled the bottle of lube from the drawer.

"Remember I was going to tell you more uses for this stuff?"

Ed nodded with a look of weary confusion on his face. "Is this going to be something weird, because if so, you should have done it last night. I'm not in the mood for anything kinky this morning."

Mustang pushed the blankets away, then slid Ed's legs back toward him so that his feet were flat on the bed and his knees were up in the air. Grinning, he opened the bottle while leaning down to lick Ed's erection.

Ed moaned, then looked down when he heard Mustang squeezing the clear gel from the bottle. "What are you doing?" he asked breathily, but when there was no answer he laid his head back down. Suddenly, he felt a slick finger touch the small opening on his ass, and his head jerked back up. "What the _hell_ are you doing!" he asked more urgently.

"Just relax, Ed," Mustang murmured. "Trust me; you'll like this if you just relax. It might be a bit strange at first, but just give it a chance. If it starts to be too uncomfortable or if it hurts just let me know okay?"

Ed's heart was beating wildly at this new development, but he nodded and laid his head back down, then moaned when Mustang slipped his mouth over Ed's penis. Now _that_ felt good. Suddenly the finger that was touching him, pushed slightly and he felt the tip enter him.

Ed blinked and took in a deep breath as the finger continued to slide into him. This was something that he'd never felt before, and _damn_ if it didn't feel good! Strange, but good… Ed reached down and grabbed onto Mustang's head and started rocking his hips; up into his mouth, then impaling himself on the thin intrusion below. The stimulation from the blow job and the penetration from Roy's finger was…

_Riiing_

Ed sucked in a breath as Mustang's head lifted a bit. "Just leave it!" he hissed urgently and pressed down on the man's head. So close… so fucking cl…

_Riiing_

_Riiing_

_Riing_

After the fifth ring, Mustang lifted his head, letting Ed's hard erection slide from his mouth, and said reluctantly, "I should get it…"

"Roy, come _on_… _please_…" Ed begged in frustration, and rocked his hips again. This was not fair! He fucking _needed_ this! _Now_! He needed it _now_! Whoever was on the mother fucking phone could _wait_!

By then the phone was on its tenth ring and still going.

When Mustang sighed and gave him a look of apology, Ed growled bitterly and slammed his head against the pillow in frustration before roughly grabbing the phone, which was now on its fifteenth ring, and handing it to the colonel.

"Mustang," Roy pronounced into the phone. Ed watched with a sense of growing dread as his facial expressions changed from bland disappointment to shock, then to fear. "I'll be there as soon as I can," Mustang said quickly, and got up to place the phone on the receiver himself.

"Ed…" Mustang breathed in a shaky voice. He swallowed hard and said, "Get dressed. We've got to get to the hospital."

* * *

Winry swept the last of the dirt from the front porch and smiled. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. For now it was cool enough, but in a few hours they'd be feeling the heat. It was June now and the rain they'd been having in April and May had given way to rising temperatures over the last couple of weeks.

The weather hadn't been the only thing heating up. Tempers were running hot all through Rizembool. The amount of people who were for the People's Army had risen dramatically thanks to Roland. The man had traveled to a few of the other outlying towns as well, but he mostly stayed in Rizembool.

She leaned against the railing, looked out toward town, and frowned. Roland had been true to his word and hadn't tried to talk Al into joining up, but she knew he wanted to. Winry had seen it in his eyes those few times they'd ran into each other. She supposed she couldn't blame him.

Alphonse was a very talented alchemist and he could be a great addition to their cause. As much as Winry knew Roland had a valid reason for fighting against the current government, she still couldn't help but dislike the man. He was a threat to her happiness; he wanted to take her Alphonse away from her…

Suddenly something caught her eye and she put a hand to her forehead to block the sun. A boy was riding toward their house at full speed on a bicycle. It only took a few minutes for him to make it up the dirt road.

The boy, William Hathal(1), was the butcher's ten-year-old son, and was usually a very calm and pleasant boy. This morning though, he was very animated as he jumped off his bike and ran toward her.

"Miss Rockbell! Miss Rockbell!" the boy shouted in alarm.

"Will! What's wrong?" she asked, descending the stairs.

In heavy breaths he said, "Me 'an tha' other boys, we're all supposed ta bring everyone one of these!" Will reached in a bag he had slung around his shoulders and pulled out a paper.

"What is this?" Winry asked, taking the paper. "What's going on?"

"It's them! They're here!" The boy sounded frightened.

"Who's here?"

"The military!"

Her eyes widened. "The military? Here?"

William nodded. "That's right, and they arrested Roland!"

* * *

Izumi walked around the side of the house and stopped when she saw the two Tringham brothers sitting on the grass talking. Actually, only Fletcher was sitting. Russell was on his knees, kneeling over his younger brother. The two boys had their foreheads pressed together, and the taller boy was talking, although from this distance Izumi couldn't hear what was being said.

Suddenly, Fletcher shook his head and said something. He looked unhappy about whatever it was, but Russell just smiled and started talking again. After a moment, the older brother gently caressed the younger boy's face, then kissed him on the forehead.

The small alchemist looked down and shook his head while saying something else, and Russell moved his hand under the boy's chin and lifted his head up to face him. Russell said something, then started moving his head down as if to kiss the younger boy on the lips.

Izumi grunted and stalked toward them. "Fletcher!" she called sharply. Startled, the brothers' heads whipped around to look at her approach. Both of their cheeks were turning red, though Fletcher's was more so than Russell's.

"I've decided to take you on as a student," she barked.

His eyes went wide, then he grinned happily. "Really?" he cried.

"Yes. Now, go put the clothing you packed back where it was. After that, go find Sig and help him in the meat shop."

"Yes ma'am!" the boy exclaimed and got to his feet. He only took a few steps when he turned back and looked at Russell in concern.

The tall chemist was frowning. For a moment he did nothing, then he nodded at his younger brother. With that show of approval, Fletcher grinned widely and dashed quickly back to the house.

After he was gone, Izumi glared down at the sixteen-year-old and said flatly, "I do _not_ approve."

Russell looked away and muttered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. I'm not stupid, and neither are you."

The tall teen's mouth tightened before he looked back at her and growled, "It's none of your business."

"It _is_ my business because I am his teacher," she answered, folding her arms under her breasts.

Angrily, Russell stood up and faced her. "I'm only agreeing to this because he wants it so bad, but you have no right to poke your nose into our business."

"I want you out of my house _today_."

Russell folded his arms and stood up tall. "If I wanted to take Fletcher with me you couldn't stop me."

Izumi's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh really…" she breathed.

Russell just looked at her for a moment, then walked past her. "But like I said, I'm letting him stay because he wants to…but I'll be returning for him after my business is finished in Rizembool."

"He's my student, and he won't be leaving unless I give him permission to do so. If you want him back, you'd better learn to love him correctly."

* * *

"They must have had informants here to have caught him so fast…" Al said, looking down at the military announcement.

"Well, this is just turning out to be a fine mess, isn't it?" Pinako grunted around her pipe.

Al sighed and scanned the paper again. There was to be a public meeting that evening on the large field just outside of town. Everyone was expected to attend… He shook his head. This did not sound good…

* * *

Ed glanced from Mustang to Kain Fuery. The master sergeant was asleep on the bed with wires and tubes stuck to him… stuck in him…

Fuery was lucky to be alive.

An alchemist who lived in the area heard the commotion and had come to investigate. By the time he'd gotten there, the men were gone. If the man had been an ordinary person, or even an ordinary alchemist, Fuery most likely would have died. This man though, happened to have been a doctor in the Ishbal war and one of the things he'd learned there was how to transmute broken skulls back together…

Lucky.

Damn lucky…

Ed felt worried and angry at the same time. How could someone do such a thing? Kain Fuery was one of the nicest, friendliest people he had ever met. Ed had a feeling it might have to do with the fact that the man had been putting his nose in where it wasn't wanted, but… all of the information he'd dug up had become public soon after anyway…

Unless…

Unless there was something going on that he didn't know…

His mind went back to the day Mustang and Havoc had been yelling at each other. Mustang had said it was classified. Could that have something to do with this? If so, why didn't he know about it? Why wouldn't Mustang tell him…?

The door opened and a doctor let himself into the room before closing the door softly. He was an older man, with thinning gray hair and tired looking eyes. The doctor looked from Ed to Mustang, then directed his gaze to the colonel.

"Colonel Mustang?" the old man asked. Mustang gave a curt nod, but said nothing. When the doctor got the affirmation he was looking for, he stepped forward and said, "I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that despite all his injuries, Mr. Fuery should recover his physical health."

The doctor sighed, then continued. "The bad news is… well… we're not so sure about his brain functions. There are, of course, more tests that need to be run and he'll need to be watched closely for a few weeks…" he trailed off, then said, "We don't know what will happen, but I'm not sure he will be fit for military duty after this…"

"I see," Mustang replied in clipped tones. His face was guarded and perfectly businesslike. The casual observer might even think that the man could care less about what was going to happen to his subordinate.

But Ed wasn't a casual observer. He knew Mustang cared, and that he cared very much… He had seen it in the man's eyes and body language as they'd gotten dressed and as they'd made their way to the hospital.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Yes… well… I just wanted you to know. I'm required to tell a soldier's commanding officer whether or not…"

"I am perfectly aware of the procedure, doctor," Mustang said, interrupting the man. "From here on out all you need to do is keep him alive. The military will decide if Master Sergeant Fuery is fit for duty or not."

"Yes, but…"

"That will be all, doctor," Mustang said flatly, walked toward the door and let himself out of the room. Ed glanced at the frustrated doctor for a moment, then left the room as well. When he stepped out into the hall, Ed saw that Mustang was waiting for him.

"Let's go," Mustang grunted and they started down the hall, but stopped when they heard someone yell at them.

Ed turned around and saw Lieutenant Havoc sprinting down the hall toward them, a look of rage painted on his features. A nurse shouted at him to walk, but he paid her no mind. When he caught up to them, Havoc grabbed Mustang's jacket and roughly slammed him up against the wall.

"You _son-_of-a-_bitch_! This is all your fault! I _told_ you that people were going to get hurt, but did you listen? _No_!" Havoc cried in pain filled anger, before jerking the colonel forward and pushing him back against the wall again.

Mustang only stared at him with a businesslike expression on his face. When the lieutenant saw no emotion on his superior officer's face, he slammed him against the wall a third time, and hissed, "You unfeeling bastard!"

Ed decided that was enough, and stepped forward, putting a hand on Havoc's arm.

"Jean…" Ed said quietly, thinking that using his first name was best for this situation.

The lieutenant glanced down at him through unshed tears, then pounded the man against the wall again and whispered, "This is a _bad_ idea… all of it… they knew about Fuery… what makes you think they won't find out the rest of your plans?"

Mustang was silent for several moments before his eyebrows knit together and his eyes radiated something that Ed couldn't put a name to. "Do you trust me?" Mustang whispered. He looked to the side and Ed turned his head to see Lieutenant Hawkeye standing behind him.

Havoc slowly let go of Mustang's uniform, then walked down the hall without another word.

"Sir…" Hawkeye said in a quiet, unsteady voice. "He's just worried…" She looked tired and Ed noticed that her eyes looked a little red.

Hawkeye… crying?

He'd always thought she was made of steel…

When Mustang said nothing, she briefly patted Ed on the shoulder, then started down the hall the way Havoc had gone.

"Lieutenant…" Mustang murmured. She stopped and turned to look at him with a guarded expression. "Neither of you answered my question." For almost a full minute, she just looked at him, then without a word, turned around and followed after Havoc.

* * *

1) William Hathal is not a character in the series or the manga. He'll probably never be mentioned in this story again.


	24. The Price of Rebellion

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**The Price of Rebellion**

As they neared the large field outside the main township of Rizembool, Winry sighed wearily. They'd come early, but there were still many people already there.

"I can hold that for you if you want," Al offered, not for the first time.

Winry snorted, shifted the bulky blanket in her arms, and said, "I don't want you carrying anything."

"Come on, Winry… my ribs rarely hurt at all anymore…" Al began, but she cut him off.

"Perhaps in a week or two you can start doing more, but I don't want you to strain yourself."

"I'm telling you, I'm _fine_. In fact, I was thinking about maybe going to look for Ed soon," he said as he scanned the crowd.

Winry's eyes opened wide in surprise and she stopped walking. Al… leave…? No… Pain formed in her chest and her throat constricted at the thought of him going away. She'd already waited all those years for Ed, how could she go back to waiting again for Al?

He turned around to look at her and said, "Winry…?"

Tears came to her eyes and she looked away quickly, trying to make them go away. It hurt to think of being alone again, of having to wait. How could he do that to her? How could he leave her again to a life of constantly waiting, constantly watching for him to come back? All those years she had worried, and now to go back to that…to not know if he was safe or not…

She didn't want him to go, but how could she tell him that? Ed was his _brother_! He had every right to want to find him; she had no right to tell him no. But… she _worried_ about him… didn't he see that? Didn't he know how much she cared about him?

"Winry, are you alright?" he asked in concern.

She turned and gave him a forced smile. "Yeah, I just had something in my eye, that's all," she lied quickly.

He was about to say something else when Pinako yelled from ahead, "You kids hurry up, you hear? I'll be dammed if I make it there before you, now get a move on!" They looked at each other and grinned before hurrying to catch up.

* * *

"Brother… are you really leaving _today_?" Fletcher whimpered, watching Russell pack the rest of his meager belongings.

"That's right," he said shortly.

_Stupid old hag..._ Russell thought angrily. _How dare she stick her nose in where it doesn't belong?_ He shook his head. There wasn't anything wrong with his relationship with Fletcher! Maybe they loved each other a little differently than most brothers, but so what?

He didn't like thinking that he was going to be separated from his brother, but at least it was here and not in the middle of a war zone. At least he knew Fletcher would be safe… That was his only consolation in all of this.

His younger brother had a better chance of being alive when he came back here then in the East.

Russell sighed, sat down on the bed and stared at Fletcher. At twelve years old, Fletcher was only four years younger than him(1), but still he worried about him. It had been for his own selfish reasons that he'd dragged his brother to join The People's Army in the first place…

He hadn't wanted to be without him.

But Fletcher didn't belong there. Perhaps even Russelldidn't belong there, but he loved the idea of a government run by the people; loved it enough to fight for it. His brother didn't necessarily believe in the ideals of The People's Government, but he believed in Russell…

"Don't worry, Fletcher," Russell said, then softly ran a finger along Fletcher's smooth cheek. "I'm just going to Rizembool for a while to talk to Al, and hopefully Ed, if he's back by then."

Guilt shown in Fletcher's eyes and he said, "I can come with you… I mean… I don't _have_ to stay here…"

Russell shook his head, "You want to have that woman teach you, right?"

"Well…yeah, but…"

Russell put a finger over his brother's lips. "But nothing. I told you not to worry about it. I'll be back in a month or two to get you, so just concentrate on your learning while I'm gone, okay?"

* * *

Al scanned the crowd of people, then let his gaze stop on the newly built stage where the military representative would be speaking to them. The wooden platform was long and sturdy with a podium and microphone for the speaker. _Where_ they had constructed it though… that worried him. The platform was built right next to, or perhaps better to say right under, one of the largest trees on the field…

"Al... why don't you sit down?" he heard Winry say from where she was sitting on the blanket. He sighed wearily and sat down after he felt her tug on his pants.

"I don't like this..." he muttered and looked around again.

"Well, there's not much we can do right now, but wait," Pinako said, and puffed on her pipe.

He sighed and was about to say something when a mechanical rumble met his ears and he turned to see a military truck, filled with soldiers, driving toward the platform. Silence swept over the crowd as the vehicle reached the stage.

When the truck stopped, the occupants all stood, and there was a gasp when the crowd saw two soldiers roughly shove a chained and manacled Roland out of the truck. When the older man stumbled and fell to the ground, a tall soldier yelled at him to get up, then kicked him in the side.

"Well now… _that's _productive," Pinako muttered around her pipe.

Several soldiers grabbed the man and dragged him roughly across the ground and lifted him onto the platform. At that angle it was plain that the man had been severely beaten. Soldiers filed around the platform, then one opened a door on the truck and a pale man with dark hair combed back stepped out.

When Al saw who it was, he gasped sharply.

"Al?" Winry quietly asked in concern.

"I know him… I mean… I've seen him before…"

"Who is he?" she whispered.

He was about to tell her when the man began speaking.

"Citizens of Rizembool," he paused for effect, then continued. "My name is Colonel Frank Archer. The great and noble Fuhrer Bradley has heard of how _loyal_ this part of the north is, and has decided, in his great wisdom, to send me to enforce marshal law to _protect_ all of you _good _and _honest_ citizens."

"This man is scum…" Al whispered to Winry and Pinako without turning his eyes away from the colonel.

"Because we only wish to protect you," Archer continued, "some of the rules will be strict, and so will be the punishment for defying them. Because the area of Rizembool is so spread out, we will send each homestead a copy of the temporary laws that will be put into effect, as well as posting them in the main part of Rizembool."

"We will also be sending soldiers to your homes periodically to make sure you are not being held captive against your will by those who oppose the military. Someone like this man right here for example," he said and pointed at Roland.

Al could hear the people around him begin muttering loudly to each other, but they were cut off when Archer pulled out his gun and fired it into the air. The crowd gasped, and a few people screamed, but after that there was silence except for the quiet sobs of little children.

"Now," the pale man said calmly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "As I was saying, there will be periodic inspections. We expect your full cooperation in this. If there is any resistance, you can be sure the repercussions will be severe."

He paused a moment, then continued, "There will also be a curfew. Anyone found outside of their homes after sundown will be shot without warning. It doesn't matter if it is a man, woman, or child. This too, is for your protection."

"Bullshit," Pinako muttered softly.

"It has come to our attention that some of your male citizens have joined with the rebels. This must grieve many of you very much, because I _know_ how _loyal_ each and every one of you are. Although I know none of you would _ever_ dream of supporting traitors, you must be aware of the penalties the fuhrer has set up for anyone found supporting, aiding, or becoming a part of the rebellion."

The colonel nodded at a soldier near the tree and the man nodded back before stringing a rope over one of the large, sturdy branches. An even deeper silence seemed to fall on the crowd, and Al swallowed hard, nervous of what was going to happen.

With the rope tied securely and a noose set, Archer nodded at a few other soldiers who then forced Roland over to the rope. It didn't take much, given that the man was already weak from whatever beating they'd given him.

"This man has been found guilty of treason, and for such he will hang."

Roland was made to stand on a stool and the noose was slipped around his neck. The prisoner let his eyes scan the crowd and when they lit on Al they stopped. The man's gaze bore a hole into him, as if pleading with him, one last time, to join in the cause that he was about to die for.

_I'm sorry..._ Al thought with tears in his eyes. _I can't. I'm sorry..._

"Watch closely, citizens of Rizembool," Colonel Archer said menacingly. "_This_ is the price of rebellion."

Suddenly, the colonel kicked the stool savagely out from beneath Roland.

A collective gasp sounded and Al grabbed Winry, letting her bury her face in his chest.

* * *

"Don't worry. I'll be back," Russell said, not for the first time.

Fletcher nodded, though he looked unconvinced.

Sighing, Russell knelt on the ground, and, mindful of the intimidating woman's presence, put his hands on his brother's shoulders instead of hugging him. "You're acting like you'll never see me again. It's only for a couple of months Fletcher." He nodded again, but his trembling lip gave away his feelings. Russell shook his head and thought, _forget the old hag_, before wrapping his arms around his brother. "It's not goodbye forever, Fletch. Come on… don't be like this."

"I know… I'm sorry. It's just that… I don't want you to go… I just have a bad feeling about it. You should stay here in the south like you're supposed to…"

Russell shook his head. "If I can get Al—and Ed—to join our cause it will be worth it all." Fletcher looked down, sniffled, and nodded a third time. "Alright, I'm going," he said, and stood up. When his younger brother looked up at him with pleading eyes, Russell said, "Don't _worry_. I'll be _fine_."

"Can't you at least stay until tomorrow morning? It's already evening… Just another hour until sunset…"

Russell shook his head. Izumi said she wanted him out tonight, and personally he didn't want to be around her for a moment longer than he had to. He quickly leaned down and kissed Fletcher on the top of the head before saying, "Two months… maybe three… though I doubt it. Okay?"

"Okay," Fletcher said unhappily.

Russell started down the road that would eventually take him out of the town. Suddenly he stopped, turned around and waved one last time. Fletcher waved back and in that moment, Russell felt a heaviness form in his chest… a foreboding feeling that nagged at him to listen to his brother for once.

He shook the feeling aside.

His brother had always been a worrier.

* * *

After the rest of Archer's speech, soldiers began directing the crowd away from the stage. A few people spoke in low murmurs, but besides that there was quiet. Everyone seemed too stunned to say much. Archer had ordered them all to go back to their homes and not come out until the next day. This, Al was sure, was to avoid anyone from retaliating.

When Al looked up and saw Winry begin walking against the throng, toward the tree, he called worriedly, "Winry! What are you doing?"

When she didn't acknowledge him, he ran to catch up with her. As he came to her side, she looked at him with tears in her eyes, and said, "I just want to… I don't know…"

"I don't think this is a good idea…" he muttered and glanced at the soldiers.

When they reached the spot where Roland's body was hanging from the tree, a soldier held out a hand. "Stop right there," he commanded them.

"I just want to pay some respect to the dead," she said tearfully.

"Please return to your homes. No one is allowed to…" the soldier began, but was cut off by Colonel Archer.

"What's going on here?" he asked flatly.

"Sir," the solider said, and saluted. "These two civilians say they want to pay their respect to the dead."

"Really?" the colonel sneered, then asked, "What are your names?"

"Winry Rockbell…" Winry answered unsteadily.

Al hesitated. It was well known in Central that Alphonse Elric wore a suit of armor and never took it off. What questions might come up if he answered? In the end though, he thought it better to be honest. "Alphonse Elric," he said stiffly.

Archer raised an eyebrow and said, "Alphonse Elric?" When Al nodded, the colonel said, "Not brother to the Fullmetal, surely…"

It wasn't a question.

Al nodded again and pressed his lips together. The delighted grin that spread across the other man's face was enough to give him the creeps.

Archer waved a hand and said, "Let the woman 'pay her respects'. You may go; I have business with this one." When the soldier saluted and left, Archer folded his arms and looked Al up and down. "Well, you don't _look _like you'd fit in armor that size…"

Al shrugged. "I don't care what you think."

"Indeed? Well, none of that really matters, does it? What matters here is that you are a _very_ talented alchemist… I could use someone of your skills…"

Al sighed and looked to where Winry was standing by Roland's corpse, then returned his gaze to the unsavory man in front of him.

"I'm not interested in becoming the military's _dog_, colonel," Al said.

The pale man gave him a flat lipped smile. "I'm not asking you to become a dog for the military. I don't think that someone of your talents should be used in such an unfitting manner. I want you to work with me, and the people under me. I have some very powerful alchemists…" he trailed off and nodded toward the truck.

Al turned his head to look in the direction Archer had nodded. A man with black hair cut short on his head and a long wrapped tail of hair running down his back was leaning against the truck. He was on the side facing away from the crowd, so Al hadn't seen him before.

Al frowned. He knew this man's face too, though he'd only read about him…(2) "Zolf J. Kimblee… The Crimson Alchemist…" he muttered.

"So you know of the lieutenant colonel(3)," Archer stated.

"Of course. He killed some of his own during the Ishbal war… but I thought he was…"

"Executed for his crimes?" Colonel Archer laughed. "Well, some things aren't always what they seem."

"I'm aware of that," Al said bluntly.

The colonel nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "I'm… _sure_… you are."

Al fidgeted a bit uncomfortably, unsure of how much the man knew, then cleared his throat before saying, "I'm still not interested in being anyone's dog."

Truthfully, Al actually sympathized more with the rebellion than with the military. The idea of a people run government was intriguing, and if it could work that might be better than a militaristic government. Even then, he still didn't like the idea of fighting, didn't like the idea of war and having to kill people…

"Well… we shall see…" Archer said, the knowing grin still on his face as he turned around and headed back to the truck.

Al watched him for a moment, then moved his gaze to Kimblee. The man was returning his stare with a predatory one. Alphonse felt a chill, then turned around and walked over to Winry. She was holding a photograph and two pieces of folded paper. He looked over her shoulder and saw that it was a picture of Roland's family.

She turned around and, with tears in her eyes, said, "I never wished for this to happen to him… I just wanted him to leave you alone…"

"I know…" he murmured.

Gently, Al pulled the picture and papers out of her hands, and wrapped one arm comfortingly around her. Awkwardly he unfolded the first paper with his remaining hand and scanned over the words.

A letter from Roland's wife.

The paper was worn and was starting to tear at the creases from how many times the man must have folded it and unfolded it. The second paper was newer; a letter from the man to his wife…

Sighing heavily, Al tucked the picture and the letters into his pocket, then whispered, "Let's go home…" before guiding Winry away from the gruesome scene.

* * *

1- I don't believe any mention was ever made about Fletcher's age, so I've decided to make him four years younger.

2 – Just a reminder that this story breaks off from the series when Ed and Al go to visit Dante. Nothing out of the ordinary happened at that time, but it isn't inconceivable that sometime between then and now Archer was able to get a hold of Kimblee.

3 – As you can see he's been promoted.


	25. Politics

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Politics **

Ed stood, tapping his fingers on the bar counter while he waited for the busy bartender to finish making his and Mustang's drinks. The place was buzzing with activity and he supposed that's how it should be on a Saturday night; although, he had no way of knowing since this was his first time in such an establishment.

When a group of women left their stools and headed toward the door, Ed took one of them, laid his head on the cool polished counter, and sighed. The day had been a long one as he and the colonel had gone from place to place; talking with people and getting information. Ed had been 'lucky' enough to be Mustang's 'errand boy' whenever he needed something or wanted something taken to somewhere.

Normally, he would object to being put in such a position, but today he didn't mind. Today, they were trying to get what information they could on Fuery's attackers. The day had been hard on both of them, and that's why Ed didn't complain when Mustang mentioned going to the bar to unwind.

"Hey soldier boy, why don't you get out of that stool and make way for someone more important than yourself!" a voice said snidely behind him.

Slowly, Ed sat up straight and looked behind him. Two smug-looking soldiers in uniform—one a sergeant first class and the other a staff sergeant—and two women—their dates he presumed—stood behind him. They were chuckling and looking smugly at their dates.

He watched them irritably with tired eyes until they turned their gaze back to him, and when they saw his rank their smiles faded to looks of nervous apprehension. Ed let the sides of his mouth turn up in a smug grin of his own.

"What was that?" he asked arrogantly.

"Uh… nothing, um, sir… I… _we_ didn't realize…"

Thoroughly enjoying their discomfort, Ed pulled out his pocket watch, turning it so that they would be sure to see the symbol on it, and checked the time. "Sure is taking him a long time to get the colonel and my drinks ready..." he muttered loud enough for them to hear that he was with an even higher ranking officer than himself.

Suddenly, two glasses were set on the counter near him. "Sorry 'bout the wait son. We're a bit short on help tonight."

"No problem," Ed said lightly to the frazzled-looking barkeep. He picked up the glasses and slid off the stool. "Why don't you put these on their tab," he said with a grin, inclining his head toward the two non-commissioned officers. "I mean, you don't _mind_ paying for our drinks, right?" he asked and turned his head toward them.

The two men practically crawled all over themselves in their effort to assure him that of course they didn't mind at all, and that they really were sorry for the mix up, and… Ed blocked out the babble and looked at their dates. He thought the women looked rather unimpressed with their choice of company for the night.

He nodded and began walking away. He hoped Mustang wouldn't find out about that... He'd technically abused his authority, but he knew they'd made that snap judgment about him because of his size, and _that_ was what really pissed him off... What did it hurt to give assholes like that a taste of their own medicine?

As he approached the small table in the back corner, where Mustang was sitting, Ed slowed a bit and watched his commanding officer and lover. Roy was holding his open pocket watch in front of his face and gazing sadly at the inside.

When he was almost to the table, Ed stopped and stared at the man. Mustang just seemed so… sad and depressed… Ed thought about his own watch; the inside carrying an engraved reminder of his sin. Not for the first time, he wondered what, if anything, the colonel kept on the inside of his watch.

Suddenly Mustang caught sight of him and snapped the watch closed before putting it away, then beckoned Ed forward. He complied and placed the drinks on the table, then sat down with a heavy sigh.

Looking at the drinks, he asked, "Which one is mine?" Mustang had told him what to order for both of them since Ed really didn't know much about alcohol. The colonel had promised that Ed would like what he got.

"This one is yours," Mustang said, gently pushing the ten ounce 'rocks' glass toward him. "And this one is mine," he said, taking the other.

Ed watched him take a sip, then asked, slightly amused, "Good?"

"_You_ wouldn't like it," Mustang answered, then gestured toward Ed's glass. "Try it."

Ed shook his head. "Well at least the name fits you," he said and watched the colonel's lips pull up into a small smile.

"Yes, well, I _feel_ like a 'Suffering Bastard' right now, especially having been working my ass off all day."

Ed chuckled, then turned his attention to his own drink and examined it for a moment. The small old fashioned glass was rimmed with... He licked it. Sugar. It was rimmed with sugar. He smelled the contents and when he deemed it drinkable, Ed took a small sip.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You're right, I do like this."(2) Mustang nodded knowingly. "What's it called again?" he asked. There hadn't been many drinks he liked, and he certainly didn't want to forget the name of one he that he did.

"Amaretto Sour," Mustang grunted.

The two of them fell silent for a time, taking sips of their drinks and thinking. When Ed pulled out a cigarette, Mustang grimaced and said, "Do you really have to do that?"

Ed glared at him irritably and waved a hand to the smoky room. "I'm not the _only_ one smoking here," he said snidely, then muttered, "Stupid ass…" as he lit up. He knew Roy wasn't too fond of him smoking, and it was beginning to become a sore source of contention between them. It wasn't uncommon for Mustang to ask him, or _tell _him, depending on his mood, to brush his teeth before he was willing to kiss him.

To Ed, it was the most fucked up thing in the world. Here was a man who let him cum in his mouth, actually seemed to _like_ the taste, and yet _this_ was too disgusting. He shook his head at the thought.

Of course, he had to admit it wasn't the _best_ taste in the world, and he actually hadn't much liked it himself at first. But since then, he'd switched brands to something he liked better. 'Wussy smokes' as Havoc had dubbed them; although, that didn't stop the man from begging one off of him here and there…

"Yes, well, I'm not going home with any of them, now am I?" Mustang said irritably and took another sip of his drink. Ed muttered something, and the colonel said, "Excuse me? Say that again…"

Sighing heavily, Ed said, "How about I quit smoking when you stop drinking."

Roy glared at him and said, "That's completely different, Ed. I don't_ stink_ after having a drink."

"Oh, what_ever_!" Ed crowed. "Have you _smelled _your breath after some of the shit you drink? Or even the morning after? Fucking _worse_ if you ask me; but, of course, you _didn't _ask me, now did you?" With a look of pure frustration, Mustang opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and looked away. "What?" Ed asked defensively.

Mustang looked back at him and said calmly, though his voice was laced with anger, "I'm not going to fight with you about this tonight, Ed. We've both had a hard day and I understand that you need to let off some steam, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't take it out on me."

Frowning, Ed nodded. He hadn't realized until Mustang had said it, but he _was_ tired and stressed, and he did feel the need to get rid of some of that tension... Although it was slightly embarrassing when Roy talked like that to him, so slow and calm… so very… _mature_…

Ed took a sip of his drink and scowled at that thought. It was something he hadn't learned to do—being calm and mature when he was upset or frustrated. Normally he just blew up, ranted, or got even; like with those two soldiers...

That's how he wanted to be... He wanted to be able to defuse a situation with a calm manner, not add to it by getting riled up himself... Not that the colonel _never_ got angry. No, Ed had definitely seen that happen many times before, but he _did_ have the ability to keep calm if he tried.

"So, what do you make of all of this," Ed said, trying to change the subject. "I mean, all this with Fuery…"

Mustang sat back in his chair and folded his arms before saying, "I think this was planned out by those 'higher ups' that have connections with Kagegkuski. They caught on to what Fuery was doing and were trying to let me know that they knew…" His voice trailed off and he took a sip of his drink.

Ed's eyes widened a bit. He hadn't thought of that... "Are you serious?" he asked in worried disbelief.

Mustang stared at him for a moment, his eyes searching Ed's, then he laughed and shook his head. "Of course not! I'm not _that _important. What are you thinking?" Ed could only stare. The laugh was forced and so were the words. No... Mustang hadn't been joking, but now he was making it seem that way... but _why_? Why would he do that? Mustang took a sip, then said, "I'm going to report that it was the work of some hoodlums. That seems to be what all the evidence points to."

Ed frowned, took a drag, and blew the smoke out of his nose in frustration. Nowhere in all that did the colonel say what he actually thought. He said what he'd report, and he said what some of the evidence _seemed_ to point to, but not what he believed.

No… what Roy said the first time was what he actually thought. The idea that Mustang was now trying to hide it from him made him angry. He was pretty sure that if he pressed it, not only would he not get any answers, but they'd also just end up getting into an argument.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, then Mustang waved a serving girl over. She was pretty and when she asked what she could do for them, she rested her hand lightly on Mustang's shoulder in a flirting fashion. Jealously mixed with irritation as the colonel returned her flirty attitude as he ordered another drink. Ed's eyes followed the scantily-dressed girl as she made her way across the room to the bar.

"I thought you said it would be faster if I just went up there and ordered," Ed growled.

Mustang shrugged and picked up his glass. "I still have a bit left."

Ed watched Roy's eyes shift away from him, and he realized suddenly that Mustang was trying to avoid speaking to him… That's why he'd called the girl over instead of having him go…

Well fuck that…

When the server came back, Mustang pulled out his wallet to pay her, but Ed beat him to it. Thrusting the money in the girl's hand, he thanked her and said quickly that they'd call her over if they needed anything else. Which, of course, was a lie on his part; he had no intention of calling her back over...

"You paid for my drink?" Roy asked in confusion. Ed could understand the confusion. Since _that night_, he'd been none too happy about Mustang drinking, and hadn't been exactly quiet about it either.

He nodded and said, "Of course. You've had a hard day, and like you said, we're both tired."

Of course that was also a lie. The money was actually what Mustang had given him to initially pay for their first drinks. That had been the intended purpose for the money, so Ed didn't exactly feel like he was contributing to Mustang's drinking habits. Plus it made him look like the good guy…

"Well... thanks," Roy said, sounding much friendlier now.

Ed shrugged it off and said, "You know... I've been thinking…"

The colonel grinned and said, "I thought I smelled something burning."

"Asshole," Ed muttered before continuing. "You know this thing that's going on in the East… well... I've read some of the pronouncements Kagegkuski sent to the newspapers, and it doesn't sound all that bad. I mean, a government controlled by the people..." His voice trailed off when he saw Mustang shaking his head.

"You really are naïve, aren't you?" Roy said, and took a drink. Ed scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but Mustang said, "Don't look at me like that. It's true, at least it is here."

"What do you mean by that?" Ed growled angrily.

Sighing, Mustang leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and studied Ed with tired eyes. "A government controlled by the people, huh? What Kagegkuski is talking about is a pure democracy(3). Do you really think that type of a system could work?"

"Well… it might…"

Another shake of the head. "There is no way such a system would work…"

"Well, it could if..." Ed cut in, but Mustang over-road him.

"No, it wouldn't. Ed, for one thing, people are just too stupid to rule themselves. It would require a lot of working together, and people don't do that naturally. Also, not everyone is going to be interested in politics, so naturally only the people who actually _care_ are going to have the say."

"Isn't it kind of rude to say that they're stupid?"

Mustang unfolded his arms, leaned forward, and took another sip before continuing. "Okay, maybe 'stupid' was not the best word, but think about it this way; everyone is not going to have the same knowledge about what's going on. The common person might know a bit of what is happening in their area, but not everything. There also may be issues that are just too complicated for the average person. Besides that, most people would only give superficial attention to the details anyway, so they'd probably be easily swayed by what the more vocal people had to say."

When Ed frowned, Mustang said, "Don't give me that look. You know it's true. There are still going to need to be laws, even in that type of a government, but not everyone is going to understand them all or understand why some types of laws need to be created."

He took another drink and said, "But those aren't the only problems. In a direct democracy, _everyone_ votes on _everything_, or at least everyone who wants to vote. As I said before, some people just aren't going to care enough to worry about it."

Mustang shook his head. "Okay, let's say that Kagegkuski wins and sets up his government. Then what? What if they need to vote on something? If everyone votes on it, how would you do that? Have all of Amestris come to Central, or the East if that's where they decide to set it up, and vote? Laws are made all the time. That would be pretty difficult, not to mention tedious. No. _If_ a direct democracy is going to work, then it would need to be in a small area; a place with a small population."

Ed took a sip of his drink and pondered what Mustang said for a moment. The colonel was right. He was pretty naïve about politics, but he made a mental note to rectify that as soon as possible.

"Kagegkuski doesn't seem like a stupid man. He must realize that his proposal for a direct democracy won't work…"

"Possibly," Mustang said, noncommittally.

Ed tapped his fingers on the table as he thought. "What if the people from each region elected representatives to act as their proxies?"

"But wouldn't that just be giving power to a group of people?" Roy pointed out. "How would you know if they were really representing what you wanted them to? How would they be kept in line?"

"Well… what if other people were elected to be a kind of… central government, and then the representatives went there to make the laws and stuff…?"

"Ah… well that's different, Ed," Mustang said with a grin. "So you're saying that instead of being 'free', as Kagegkuski puts it, we'll just let the people _choose_ their dictators?"

"Not… _dictators_..." Ed made a sound of exasperation. "There would have to be some sort of provision that the people could kick them out of office or something…"

"But, if those who are elected can be taken out of office, then what power do they really have?" Mustang asked.

Ed took another sip, then licked some of the sugar off part of the rim of the glass while he thought. These were the kind of conversations he lived for. The colonel was giving him questions to make him think, instead of giving him the answer. Of course, this was politics; perhaps there _was_ no answer, only philosophy.

He sighed and said, "I think I see where you're going with all of this, and I suppose you're right. It would be difficult to implement that type of a government, but I don't think it would be impossible," Ed said.

The colonel nodded, and said, "Perhaps you could find a type of democracy that would work, but as it stands right now, I don't think that Kagegkuski is prepared for all of that. He wants to win his war, and that's what he's focused on."

Mustang gulped down the rest of his drink, then leaned over the table toward Ed and whispered, "But you know what? I'm _not_ going to let him win. This is _my_ country. I _will_ become fuhrer, and when that happens there _will_ be changes. I refuse to let this country go on the way it has, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to let Kagegkuski have it."

Ed gazed deeply into Roy's eyes and he knew that it was this sincerity, this powerful desire to make things better, which inspired Mustang's staff to follow him. That thought made him think about what had happened in the hospital earlier that day. He wanted to ask what Havoc had meant by 'I told you it was a bad idea', and 'What makes you think they won't find out your other plans.'

He watched the colonel sit back in his chair and finish off the rest of his drink. Before Mustang could raise his hand to flag down the waitress, Ed said, "Let's go home."

"What?" Roy asked in surprise.

"I'm tired…" he said and stood up. That was part of the reason, but not all. He didn't want to sit here and watch Mustang get drunk, then have to try to support him all the way home. Also, Ed had questions, and he thought he'd have a better chance at getting the answers in a place that wasn't public.

"You going to finish that?"

Sighing, Ed picked up the glass and gulped down the rest of his drink. Better him have it than Mustang...

* * *

After shutting the door, Ed pulled off his boots and watched Mustang walk toward the kitchen and out of sight with a feeling of resignation. How the man could want more than two drinks was beyond him. Personally, Ed already felt quite 'warm and toasty', as the colonel often called it, and any more would probably move him from the 'buzzed' category into the 'drunk' category.

With a sigh, Ed absentmindedly unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his uniform as he thought about how to bring up what he wanted to ask. It was obvious that Mustang didn't want him to know his thoughts on why Fuery was attacked; and the more Ed thought about it, the more frustrated he became.

The sound of glass clinking on glass from the kitchen met his ears, and Ed scowled. He'd only had one drink and that had been plenty for him, not too much… really, he still felt okay… he just felt a bit fuzzy that was all. Irritably, he shook his head as if that would help him think more clearly.

After another moment, Mustang walked out of the kitchen with a drink in his hand and watched him for a moment as he finished unbuttoning his jacket, then walked forward and whispered, "Why don't you let me help you out of that..."

A half-moan, half-sigh, escaped him as Mustang slipped a hand underneath his black tank-top and teased one of his nipples. Mustang leaned in and Ed felt lips brush lightly against his neck.

It felt good, but the physical touch just seemed to horribly clash with his mood. It wasn't just Fuery that bothered him. During the walk home he'd become increasingly frustrated as he thought about the events at the hospital. Havoc knew something, Hawkeye too, about what was going on, but _he_ didn't know anything. He'd decided to ask about this when they got home, but instead of inquiring in a sensitive, roundabout way, Ed suddenly blurted out, "What did Havoc mean?"

The kissing and touching stopped, and Ed groaned inside. That was just the worst way to start this conversation... The colonel's head lifted and obsidian eyes stared into his, radiating confusion and irritation.

"At the hospital," Ed continued, figuring he'd already ruined the moment, he might as well finish the question. "What was a bad idea, and what plans was he talking about?"

Mustang's eyes took on a guarded look. "That's classified," he said, then began to lean in again, but stopped when Ed spoke again.

"But, you can tell _me_, right?" he asked. He heard the pleading whine in his voice and thought, _Damn, I'm pathetic... What the hell is wrong with me?_

Roy sighed, shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

"Why _not_?" he asked irritably, and rubbed his head trying to ward off the headache that was coming on. It wasn't fair that he didn't know, but others did... "Doesn't any of this..." he waved his hand around vaguely "...mean anything? We're _close_ right? So why not tell me? It's not like I'm going to tell anyone else."

The colonel sighed deeply, stepped away and turned his back to him. Shaking his head, Mustang put the glass on the table and said, "This is _different_, Ed. What's going on between us doesn't affect our work, and the other way around."

"Bullshit," he growled, trying to mask the hurt that was mixing in with his frustration. "How can you say that?"

Mustang turned around with a scowl on his face. "Ed, I said this was classified. That means 'not for you to know'. Now stop pushing."

"Does this have to do with the fight you had with Havoc in your office a couple of weeks ago?" Ed asked. He couldn't help it. He was angry and hurt that Roy wouldn't let him in on what was going on; so it just made sense, in a strange sort of way, to get back at him by doing what he said not to.

Mustang folded his arms and gave him a dark look. "That is _also_ classified."

The blond made a sound of exasperation, and walked away from the door. He began pacing back and forth in the living room, quickly trying to gather all the jumbled thoughts in his head, then said indignantly, "You don't tell me anything. All you have me do is research things that have no relevance to anything truly important."

"I thought you like researching," Mustang broke in.

"I do, but that's not the point! I only know the bare minimum about what's going on. I know this all has to do with that assignment about finding out who in the military is connected to the People's Government; that much is easy to figure out, but I don't know what's being done to find them."

Ed stopped pacing and made a slashing motion with his hand across his body with his next words. "You haven't told me _anything_! I want to be involved. You'll need someone to take over whatever Fuery was doing, so why not me?"

"No," Mustang said bluntly.

"Why _not_?" Ed asked, becoming even angrier with Mustang's refusal.

Mustang unfolded his arms, placed his hands on his hips, and said, "Because I said so."

"What a load of shit," Ed growled. "Something important is going on and you're trying to keep me out of it! I know you meant what you said about them leaving you a message by trying to kill Fuery, but you're trying to hide it. I want to know why!"

The colonel shook his head. "Ed, this isn't your business."

"Make it my business!" he demanded.

"No."

"But…"

"I said '_NO_', Ed!" Mustang finally shouted in aggravation.

"But you'll tell Hawkeye, and Havoc, and Fuery… probably even Breda and Falman too! But not _me_!" Ed yelled, feeling hurt, out of control, and left out.

Mustang picked his glass up from the table and took a deep drink before running his hand through his hair and saying in vexation, "You're acting like a little child. I'm _entitled_ to know things that you don't. My _rank_ gives me that. I'll share information with whomever I think needs to know, and _you_ don't need to know."

"What a fucking load of _shit_!" Ed exclaimed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what Mustang said made sense, but… but… they were _close_! They shared the same bed! Mustang _should _tell him… right?

"Edward, calm down. There's no need to yell," Mustang said in that infuriatingly calm voice.

"I'm not _yelling,_" he cried. He wasn't yelling... he was just... talking loudly...

Mustang pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, sighed, then dropped his hand and stepped forward, putting his hand on Ed's shoulder. "You're exhausted, and I think the alcohol is affecting you, perhaps it would be better if you just went to b—"

"What?!" he exclaimed and shrugged the man's hand away. "You'd better not be saying I'm drunk, because I'm not! I remember what it was like being drunk, you asshole." Actually, he only kind of remembered being drunk. But from what he remembered, he wasn't like that at all.

"You don't have to drink a lot to have it affect you," the colonel said dryly. "You can be 'drunk' but not 'falling all over yourself drunk'."

"Oh _please_…" Ed spat. "_You_ are lecturing _me_ about drinking…?"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Mustang asked defensively.

"Just that you drink _way_ too much! That's what I mean!" he screamed back, his fury blinding his reasoning.

Mustang laughed humorlessly. "You really _are_ acting like a child; demanding to know what you have no right to know, and then trying to turn all this back on me."

Ed stared hard at the man, trying to take in all that he'd said, then repeated, "A _child_?"

"That's right, Ed, a child; a _little child_."

Furiously, Ed walked toward the hallway, then turned back and jabbed his finger into the air toward the other man. "You know what? _Fuck you_!"

He turned around and walked into the hall, then heard, "Ed, get back here!"

"Go to Hell!" he yelled, feeling his eyes prickle with impending tears.

Seconds later, he heard Mustang following him. "Ed, stop right now, I'm not done talking to you."

He walked into the bedroom, stopped then grabbed onto the door. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked angrily, getting back to the original point of contention.

"No, I'm n—"

Without waiting for the rest, Ed slammed the door and locked it. Tossing his coat on the chair next to the desk, he threw himself on the bed and listened to the man pound on the door.

"Edward! Unlock this door!"

Yeah right…

Ed grabbed his pillow, put it under his head, and closed his eyes, as if that would stop the tears from coming. He willed the suffocating pain in his chest to go away. Part of him wanted to open the door. Just open it and apologize, make things all better. He hated arguing; especially after what happened with Al... But part of him couldn't let this go... He was angry and hurt. Not only was Mustang keeping stuff from him, but he also called him childish... and _little_...

"Bastard..." he muttered.

When the pounding stopped, Ed felt tears seep out from beneath his eyelids. _He's probably just going to get drunk..._ The thought made him even angrier.

_Why?_

_Why am I acting like this?_

That was the most frustrating thing... he didn't know.

It shouldn't matter to him how much the man drank, whether he was told some military business, or if the man let him in on every detail of his life…

But it did.

It did matter to him.

Ed went over the fight in his head again and again, but all that did was make him even more hurt and upset. Reaching over, he grabbed Roy's pillow and hugged it. He breathed in Roy's scent as if it would be some sort of cure to all the problems…

But of course it wasn't.

_Why does it have to be this way...?_

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that he was exhausted; perhaps it was the thought that what happened to Fuery could happen to Roy… and the fucker was keeping him from being able to protect him… but whatever the reason, Ed buried his head in the pillow, and began to cry.

* * *

**1** – Mustang is drinking a "Suffering Bastard". This is made from 1oz Gin, 1 oz Rum, 1/2 oz Lime Juice, 1 dash Bitters, 1 oz Ginger ale and Ice.

**2** – Ed is drinking an "Amaretto Sour". This is made from 1 jigger Amaretto, Juice of 1/2 lemon, ice and a maraschino cherry (this is just for garnish).

**3** – A pure democracy shouldn't be confused with a representative democracy; which is the system the U.S. uses.


	26. Departure

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**Departure**

The sound of a phone ringing penetrated the darkness and brought Roy into consciousness.

_Phone...?_

Blindly, he reached behind him to grab the receiver. When his hand met only air, Roy turned more. Losing his balance, he fell to the floor with a thud. Groaning, he peeled his eyes open and stared irritably at the couch. Why was he sleeping on the couch…?

Suddenly, he realized the phone was still ringing and he pushed himself off the floor and scrambled into his bedroom. Picking up the phone, he said, "Mustang."

"Where are you?" said the voice on the other line.

"Ah… Lieutenant…" _Shit..._ "What do I owe the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice this fine…" He looked over at the calendar. "_Sunday_ morning?" Why the hell was the woman calling him on a Sunday?

There was a sound of exasperation then, "Sir… we were supposed to be going over the information you and Edward collected yesterday."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. _Information...?_ Then it hit him. Fuery… the investigation…

Edward.

His head whipped around, but when his eyes fell on the bed, he saw it was empty.

Roy felt a sinking feeling in his chest and when Hawkeye asked, "Sir," to his long pause, he could only mumble that he'd be in as soon as possible. Hanging up the phone, Roy sat slowly on the bed and ran a finger over the pillow Ed normally used.

It was cold… which meant that the teen hadn't been in the bed any time recently…

Roy's mind replayed what he could remember of last night's events and he felt regret wash over him. His head hurt and without thinking, he opened one of the drawers on the night stand, pulled out a small bottle, and took a drink.

The liquid burned at his throat, but he didn't care. It was the result that mattered. He held the glass container up, shook it slightly, and found an odd sense of satisfaction at watching the amber liquid slosh around inside. Still holding the bottle up, Roy dug his watch out and checked the time.

He cringed.

No wonder Hawkeye had sounded irritated…

Sighing, he took one last drink and tucked the bottle away in the drawer before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He just felt like brushing his teeth…

It didn't have anything to do with the fact that Hawkeye would give him 'that look' if she smelled alcohol on his breath…

Despite what Ed had seemed to be implying last night, he did _not_ have a problem…

* * *

"What about this?" Lieutenant Hawkeye asked, shoving another paper under his nose. Roy took it and scanned the words, then compared it to a few other documents.

"No… that doesn't match up either…" He sighed. "This isn't really getting us anywhere, is it?"

Hawkeye shook her head. Grabbing a folder, she walked over to one of the couches and sat down heavily. "Sir… with all due respect, I think that…" but cut off when the door opened and Ed walked into the room.

"Doesn't a closed door mean anything to you?" Roy said automatically, then cringed inwardly. This was an ongoing debate between the two, but it just seemed out of place considering what had happened last night.

"Nope," Ed said smoothly, but he wasn't looking at him; he was looking at Hawkeye. "Sorry for barging in, I just have some business to go over with the bastard in charge, then I'll be out of here." Roy felt a twinge of irritation. Ed was apologizing to her. He _never_ apologized to _him_ for interrupting…

She gazed at the teen for a moment before standing up and saying, "I need some coffee. You two talk; I'll be back soon."

After she left, an uncomfortable silence filled the office. Roy wasn't sure what he should say. He hadn't expected to talk with Ed until that night, but here he was, dressed in his sexy as hell uniform no less, and Roy wasn't sure what he should say.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the choice was taken from him as Ed walked over and handed him a folder. The colonel looked up at him in confusion, then hesitantly took it. He opened it and as his eyes scanned the few documents inside, a lump formed in his throat and his heart seemed to sink into his stomach.

"You're leaving?" he croaked.

"I need to get my leg extended that other half inch," Ed replied vaguely.

Roy looked over the papers again and said, "But not to Rizembool."

It wasn't a question.

"That's right. I know a good mechanic in Rush Valley that will be able to do the job just fine," the teen replied shortly.

"That's a long way to go just to have your automail extended. You could get that done here." He looked up, but Ed glanced away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Ed…" Roy began hesitantly, but the blond cut him off.

"Just sign the fucking papers," the younger alchemist said with a tremble in his voice.

"Ed… let's talk," Roy tried again.

Angrily, Ed turned his gaze toward him and said, "There's nothing to talk about. I have to get this done, and I don't want just _anyone_ to do it. If you don't sign the damn papers, I'll sign them myself. No one would be able to tell the difference."

"I wouldn't advise doing that. There are laws against forgery."

For a moment, Ed only stared incredulously at him, then he said, "You have _got_ to be shitting me! You hypocritical bastard! Maybe I should have a nice long chat with Hakuro about how all that paper work got done a couple of weekends ago."

Roy frowned. What he really wanted to do was argue the point; but, of course, Ed was right… Besides, he didn't want the teen to leave on a bad note, so he said, "Fine, I'll sign them, but let's talk first…"

Ed grabbed a pen from the desk and shoved it towards him. "Now!" he growled.

Sighing, Roy took the pen and scribbled his signature on both of the release forms, then handed the folder back.

"Ed…" he began, but the younger alchemist was already crossing the room. "Just wait a mome…" But it was too late. Ed was already out the door and shutting it behind him.

* * *

Ed stormed down the hallway, causing unsuspecting army personnel to jump out of his way.

_Bastard..._ he thought angrily.

The man had been so _nice_ and _pleasant_, but of course he'd been nice and pleasant. They'd been in the office, and he wasn't fucking _drunk_. He was actually being a little unfair in his thought process. Mustang hadn't exactly been _drunk_ last night when they'd fought, but that was a small oversight in Ed's mind.

"Edward," a female voice called.

He stopped and looked around. Lieutenant Hawkeye was walking toward him holding two styrofoam cups; filled with coffee, he presumed.

"Lieutenant…" he said unhappily, certain he was about to be scolded for his 'rude behavior' earlier.

Instead, she handed him one of the cups and said, "It's a rather nice afternoon. I need a break from the office. Would you mind accompanying me outside?"

He looked down at the cup, then back up at her in confusion. Was this some sort of joke? Normally, a conversation between him and Hawkeye went something like:

"_Edward…"_

"_I didn't do it."_

"_You need to be more respectful."_

"_Why?"_

"_You need to turn in your report."_

"_Yes ma'am."_

Well… _generally_ that's how things went.

Ed nodded hesitantly. "Okay…"

As he followed her out of the building, he wondered if this was the right thing to do… Maybe the formidable lieutenant was just taking him outside so that she could yell at him without disturbing everyone else, or maybe she'd gotten tired of scolding him and decided to just shoot him and hide his body somewhere… Well, so that was probably a little far fetched, but still… why would she possibly want to talk with him _outside_ if it wasn't something really bad…

She finally decided on a stone bench on the outskirts of the parade grounds; the same area that State Alchemist candidates showed off their skills in hopes of being one of the few lucky ones taken on by the military.

It wasn't a large bench, and as he looked at the space that was left after Hawkeye sat down, he realized that he'd need to sit quite close to her to keep from falling off. While he was trying to decide whether or not to stay standing, she patted the bench beside her with a small smile.

Reluctantly, Ed sat down and took a sip of his coffee, then looked at the cup in surprise. It was made exactly how he liked it…

"The colonel is very aware of how you like your coffee; therefore, I am too," she said as if reading his thoughts.

"Huh?"

She shook her head with an amused smile. "No, he didn't come out and say, 'Ed likes his coffee this way', but after the two of you started living together he tried it that way a couple of times. It was the comments he made that led me to believe this was how you liked it."

He frowned. Roy always complained about how Ed liked his coffee… Turning his head slightly, he studied her closely. He supposed he'd always known how observant the lieutenant was, but…

"You know, I wasn't exactly thrilled when I found out you'd become his 'roommate'. In fact, I have to admit I was very much against it." His frown deepened at how she said, 'roommate', but he said nothing. "Do you know why?" she asked, and he shook his head.

Sighing, Hawkeye took a sip of her own coffee, before saying, "I've known Roy Mustang for a long time… We served together in the war…" her voice trailed off for a moment, then she continued, "Let's just say I know him pretty well, better than he knows himself I think. I'm very aware of his… preferences… and problems…"

Preferences and problems?

Realization slowly dawned on him and his eyes widened slightly.

She knew.

She knew about him and Roy. That's what she meant by preferences…

"He has a _lot_ of problems, Ed. He's seen, and done, more terrible things than I can even imagine. He has many regrets…" She sighed, and gazed into his eyes. "He's seen, and done, much more than you have. Things you don't know about. He knows things that you don't know, and I don't mean about alchemy," she added quickly when he was about to say something.

"Ed… I know you might not see why having a… roommate… like him would be a problem for you, but besides all the social difficulties you could encounter, emotionally you are at a disadvantage. He has much more experience in life than you do, and his goals are different than yours. He's committed to them. He would do anything to reach them. Anything, Ed."

She looked away from him and gazed worriedly out over the field. "Sometimes his methods are immoral and unethical, some downright dangerous, but he doesn't care. I'm not saying that he doesn't care about the people close to him, because he does, but some of the things he's willing to do…"

Hawkeye shook her head as if shaking off something unpleasant. "But the major problem is his drinking habits. I'm sure by now you've noticed the unhealthy amount of alcohol he consumes…" When she looked at him, Ed looked away, unsure what to say. "Ed…we both know it. Not acknowledging it isn't going to make it go away."

He sighed and turned his head so that he could look at her. His eyes raked over her serious features for a moment before he nodded.

"He's not going to change. If you think you can change him, you're wrong. He has to want to change, but he can't do that; he can't even _admit_ that he needs to change. The deeper you delve into his personal life, the more ugly it becomes."

Hawkeye's eyes softened and she gazed sadly at him for a moment before wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You can do better," she whispered. "You can find a better roommate than that."

His eyes stung with unshed tears, and he let himself find comfort in her embrace.

She knew.

She knew about him and Mustang, and she knew about the man's issues… Here was a woman who really knew Roy Mustang, knew him in a way that Ed probably never would, and that hurt. Hurt a lot.

But she was right. Mustang was definitely more experienced than him in a lot of ways. The man had lived a life that Ed would never know, and he had ambitions… Ed thought of what Mustang had said about him not needing to know. Maybe Roy was keeping him in the dark about all the important stuff because he thought Ed might botch up his plans… Ed knew he had a history of messing things up…

Yet, it still hurt to think that he was thought of that way. It wasn't fair. He could be responsible… But all he could think of was all the stupid things he'd done over the years that had only caused trouble.

Sniffling, Ed pulled away, scrubbed roughly at his eyes, then mumbled, "I need a smoke…" before taking one out and lighting it. Surprisingly, Hawkeye didn't object; she simply watched him for a moment with a regretful look on her face.

"You know, outside of work I'm Roy's friend. I'd like to be yours as well," she said after he put the lighter away.

"Friend?" he asked in surprise. She nodded with a smile. "I guess," he said around the cigarette. It was odd to think of her that way…

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'd be happy to listen. My door is always open for you, alright?" she said.

When he nodded, she stood up and said, "Just think about what I said. I need to be getting back."

As she turned to go, Ed said suddenly, "I'm leaving." Hawkeye stopped, but didn't turn back around. "I'm going to Rush Valley to get my automail adjusted." He paused for a moment, then said quickly, "Would you watch out for him while I'm gone?"

She turned her head and looked at him for a moment. Her eyes held a gravity that made a chill run up his spine. Finally she said softly, "I'll try, Ed," before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Roy looked up when Hawkeye came back into the room with a cup in her hand. As she took a sip, he scowled slightly and said grumpily, "You could have gotten _me_ some coffee too while you were at it."

He couldn't have imagined a worse day. Here he was, at work, on a Sunday, while one of his subordinates was in intensive care, and another of his subordinates, who also just happened to be his lover, was still mad at him from a fight they'd had last night and was now going to leave for a couple of weeks to do something that could be done here, just to avoid him.

He knew full well that's why Ed was doing it.

Damn him…

"I didn't see any reason to get you coffee," she responded.

"And why not?" he asked irritably.

"Because you're going home, that's why." Roy blinked. He was going home?

"There isn't much more that can be done today anyway. We really should just call it a day," she said, leaving the option open for him to get the hell out of there. Of course she did that. As much as it seemed that she ordered him around, they both knew full well that he had the last say in everything.

"Well, if you're sure…" he said, not wanting to seem too eager to leave. Maybe he'd still be able to catch Ed before he left to the train station…

* * *

Ed closed the lid on the suitcase, snapped the latches tightly in place, and looked at it. Not _his_ suitcase—he'd left his in Rizembool when he'd run off—but Roy's suitcase. He wouldn't miss it. Not like he traveled all that much anyway…

He sighed. How long had it been since he'd used a suitcase? Six weeks? No… that's how long it had been since he left Rizembool. Nine weeks. It had been nine weeks because he'd been in Rizembool for three weeks… It was strange to think of it. Him and Al had always traveled so much. To stay in one place for so long was almost unthinkable…

But now he was going... leaving... Ed let his gaze wander around the bedroom—Roy's bedroom…

Even though Ed had been sleeping there, it _really_ wasn't his room. Everything about the bedroom screamed 'Roy Mustang'. There was nothing here that said 'Edward Elric'. Well, except maybe his red coat that was hanging from the corner of one of the book cases. He still fit in it, but uncomfortably so. Even then, he was hesitant to get rid of it. One of the few material things he was actually attached to.

Well… he didn't have room in the suitcase, so he'd have to leave it here. It wasn't his first preference because he wasn't sure if he'd be coming back here to live, but it was what had to be done.

Ed looked down at the suitcase lying on the bed, then hoisted it off the bed. He was just starting out of the bedroom when he heard the front door open and close, then, "Ed?"

He stopped.

Ed hadn't expected Roy to come home before he left. Cautiously, he made his way into the living room, then stopped.

"You're still here," Mustang said, sounding relieved.

"Actually, I was just leaving," Ed said stiffly. He was still upset with the man and really didn't want to talk to him. He wanted to think about what had happened last night, think about what Hawkeye had said today, and think about whether or not he really wanted to stay in a relationship with him. Did they even _have_ a relationship besides sex?

And what about Roy's drinking habits? Hawkeye was right. Mustang really did drink too much... Ed's mind went back to _that night_ and he pushed the fuzzy memory away. What would happen if they continued living together? Was the age difference really that big of a problem? The lieutenant seemed to think it was... Maybe it was... What about the rank difference? What about all the secrets Roy had that he wouldn't let him in on...?

He had so many questions and no answers. He hadn't ever really taken the time to think about them, not with what had happened with Al, then with work and then things just kind of happened, and were… it was just life…

But now…

Now he needed to know; he needed to think.

"Ed, can we at least talk before you go? I don't want you to leave angry."

"I'm not angry…" he lied, making his way to the door. The anger had seemed to fade during his talk with Hawkeye, but not all of it was gone, and what had left seemed to be replaced with hurt confusion.

Roy grabbed onto his arm. "Please…"

Ed looked up into Roy's dark eyes for a long time before whispering, "I have to go…"

"Please, let's talk. I don't want you to leave before it's settled."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Ed asked bitterly. He knew it was probably the wrong thing to say, but he couldn't help it.

When the Mustang's lips pressed together, Ed shook off the grip on his arm and said, "There's your answer," before walking out the door.

* * *

Roy stared at the closed door for several minutes after Ed left. Then in a whisper he said, "I'm sorry, Ed… but I can't tell you, can't involve you, because…"

Roy let his voice trail off as he walked to the door and rested his forehead against the cool surface.

_I want to protect you._


	27. Plans

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**Plans**

Winry leaned against the door frame of Al's bedroom. He was sitting at a small desk with his back toward her. She could tell he was writing something, and whatever it was that he was writing was frustrating him.

Al would scribble something, look at it, then shake his head before crossing it out. As she watched him, it became apparent that this cycle had been going on for sometime as he finally crumpled up the paper and dropped it into the almost full waste basket beside him. A few balls of papers dotted the floor around his chair as well.

Sighing, Al dropped his head into his hands and shook his head. She smiled when she heard him mumbling to himself, then asked, "What are you writing?" Her smile grew when he jumped at her voice and scrambled out of his chair to face her.

"Nothing! I'm not doing anything! Why do you ask?" he replied quickly, his face turning a dark red.

His embarrassment was so prominent that she started laughing. "It's okay; you don't have to tell me." She paused, then said mischievously, "You want me to take your trash out for you?"

"Er… no, that's alright…" he said slowly, his eyes darting away from hers, then back again. "What do you want?"

She shook her head. It wasn't like Al to be so direct. Figuring something important must be on his mind, Winry decided to stop playing with him and get to the point. "Lunch is ready. I thought you might be hungry."

He blinked at her as if trying to process the new information, then said, "Oh… okay. I'll be down in a few minutes…"

Winry nodded, then said playfully, "You're sure you don't want me to take out your…" But before she could finish, Al walked over, gave her a small glare, and closed the door.

* * *

Roy sat in a chair by Fuery's bed and stared at the unconscious man. The man's pale skin clashed horribly with his short, dark hair. He also looked so different without his glasses on… All the wires and tubes attached to his subordinate made Roy wince. There was one for feeding, one for some sort of medication, and a couple for life support… Every so often the life support machine would make a beeping sound and it reminded him of when Ed had been in a coma.

Reminded him why he couldn't get Ed involved…

The doctors all agreed that his master sergeant would recover physically, but they were still unsure about mentally. He'd hoped Fuery would wake soon so that they would be able to find out for sure. But still, after two weeks, he slept.

Roy sighed and cast his eyes around the room. There were cards, flowers, balloons… even little stuffed animals. It seemed Kain Fuery was quite well known. Roy really hadn't had any idea that his subordinate volunteered his free time to animal shelters, soup kitchens, and various other nonprofit organizations…

Well, you learn something new everyday.

Roy's eyes rested on a large poster that was hanging on the wall. It said "We Love You Kain" in big, bright letters and then it was signed by the more than three hundred children that lived in Central's government-run orphanage.

It all just made him feel that much worse…

Fishing out his watch, Roy depressed the button and gazed inside at the picture of him and Maes. It had been his fault that Maes had been killed too. He should have insisted his friend tell him what was going on. He'd had a feeling the man was hiding something from him, but… Roy shook his head. He hated risking the lives of his subordinates, but if they were willing…

_I'm so pathetic_… he thought as he snapped the watch shut. He'd take all the hits if he could, but he knew he couldn't. They were all trying to help him to the top, help him so that he could better this country. Standing up, Roy looked down at his master sergeant before heading toward the door.

_I won't let this all be in vain_, he thought as he let himself out of the room.

* * *

Fletcher groaned and pushed himself up off the grass. His whole body hurt and all he wanted to do was give up and lay there, but he couldn't. Not yet. He still had the energy to go on, so that's what he would do. As he got to his feet, Fletcher turned to face Izumi and put his hands up again.

"Once more!" the woman commanded; and, at that, Fletcher ran toward her, intending on striking her left side, but again he was knocked down. His nose hit the ground first and seconds later he felt blood gush down his face.

"That will be all for now," she said in a hard voice, then continued more kindly, "Why don't you go find something to stop that."

He nodded and, with a hand over his face, rushed into the house. He knew exactly where the medical supplies were kept, since he had to use them often, and was able to find himself something to stave off the bleeding.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fletcher scowled. This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd asked her to train him, but everyday he trained physically as well as mentally. Some days she trained with him, others she only sat and watched. Fletcher had a feeling that she'd never sat and watched Ed or Al train on their own, though she might have watched them train together...

Maybe...

Probably not.

No… now that he'd spent more time with her, he was beginning to see that these little things were actually big indicators that she was truly unwell. Fletcher had a bad feeling that she felt fifty times worse than what she showed. That just seemed to be the nature of the woman...

When he finally got his nose to stop bleeding, Fletcher washed his hands and walked back outside. He stopped when he saw Sig and Izumi talking.

"…and I'll need to get a new one," Sig was saying.

Izumi nodded. "Well, it was an old knife. That type of thing is bound to happen. Don't worry about it."

"It's not the knife I'm worried about," the big man rumbled.

"I'll be fine. You'll only be gone for a week. I'll have Fletcher here, so don't worry," she said with a small smile.

He watched as Sig reached out and tenderly hugged his wife. With a small smile, Fletcher retreated back into the house. He wasn't meant to see that, but he couldn't help feeling happy at how much love his teacher and her husband shared.

* * *

Ed stared glumly out the train window and took another bite of the meat-filled bun he had bought at the train station.

Two weeks.

Two fucking weeks…

Instead of going straight to Rush Valley, Ed had gotten off at every major town along the way and stayed for a few days. He'd done stupid touristy things, like sightseeing and annoying the locals.

He'd even bought a few souvenirs...

None of it had been too exciting, but it had kept him from getting to his destination. There really hadn't been a big hurry for him to get there, but he had just wanted to get away...

Ed was trying to work everything out in his mind, but so far the only thing he accomplished was dull anger, hurt, and confusion when he thought of his fight with Mustang. He didn't want to be angry, and perhaps he'd overreacted a little, but it wasn't fair!

The other officers knew what was going on, but he didn't, and he was a higher rank than them! He didn't know anything... How could Roy keep him in the dark about what was going on? Especially on something that might get him hurt like...

Ed took another bite of the bun, looked at it, then tossed it in the paper sack it had come in. He returned his gaze to the passing scenery as he chewed.

Of course, there was the even more painful question of, 'Do I have any sort of real relationship with Roy Mustang?' This question had been eating at him the whole trip. They lived together, slept together, and fucked each other senseless, but did that really mean they had any sort of _real_ relationship?

What exactly was a 'real' relationship?

He didn't know.

Maybe they had one. Maybe there was nothing more to relationships than what they already had, but...

Ed had fantasized about the man for quite a while after he'd woken up in the hospital, and to have those fantasies realized was just… well, it had been much better than anything he came up with, but…

With a sigh, he stared longingly at his bag on the seat across from him where his almost empty pack of smokes was stashed away.

Damn 'no smoking on passenger trains' laws...

Hawkeye had told him that Mustang had a lot of problems, but who didn't? _He _definitely had plenty of problems... Ed shook his head. He was still surprised the lieutenant knew about him and Roy. She knew, and disapproved, but she hadn't said anything. It was a good thing she was so loyal to Mustang. Fraternizing with your subordinate could mean serious problems…

He sighed and looked across at the seat in front of him.

It was empty.

Of course...

It made him sad, seeing that empty space. He and Alphonse had done so much traveling together that it just seemed unnatural not to have a huge suit of armor sitting in front of him. Ed shook his head. If Al were here they might be playing cards or arguing about something silly, or…

But he wasn't here.

He was in Rizembool with Winry.

Ed snorted. Al probably didn't have a care in the world right now, except perhaps… He frowned and felt guilt flood through him. His brother was probably worried about him… Al always worried about everything.

With a sigh, Ed plucked irritably at the white shirt he was wearing; his uniform was packed away in his suitcase. Mustang thought he was acting childish by not calling Al, but… well… perhaps he was. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he didn't want to chance Al finding out…

But still… he didn't want Roy to think of him as... With a start, Ed realized where his train of thought was going and growled. Why did all his thoughts have to come back to that bastard anyway...?

* * *

Russell stepped onto the platform and stretched. It felt good to be off that dumb train. He'd never been a big fan of trains... Adjusting the pack on his back, he made his way through the mass of people and looked for the exit. It was back to walking now. He could probably scrape enough together to take him another fourth of the way, but then he'd have no money for food.

Nope, it was back to walking and camping... He didn't mind that very much now that he was out of the south. Summer in the south was just atrocious. Russell hated the heat, and he didn't mind complaining about it either. Thank goodness Rizembool was to the north(1). It would still be warm, but not bad.

"Russell Tringham," a voice yelled and he turned around to see who had called him. Suddenly his eyes fell on a brown-haired teen that was jogging toward him. When the brunet caught up he said, "You remember me right?"

Russell nodded. "Urayami, right?"

"You _do_ remember!" the teen said ecstatically.

_How could I forget_? Russell thought sarcastically, thinking of the horrible name the guy got stuck with.

"Where are you headed?" Urayami asked.

"North," he answered, then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just had some things I had to do, no big deal." The brunet looked around. "Where's your brother?"

"He's staying at that woman's house you told us about," Russell said sourly.

"Excellent," Urayami said with a pleased smile. Before he could ask why it was so 'excellent', the teen said, "You don't mind if I travel with you, do you?"

"I guess not… why?" he asked.

"You said you were going to tell me all about your new government," the brunet said, then grabbed a hold of Russell and said, while dragging him to the train station exit, "I can't wait to hear about it. You have to tell me _everything_. Not just about the new government, but about you and your brother as well..."

* * *

When Roy let himself out of Kain's room, he saw Vato Falman sitting on a chair by the door. The graying man stood, saluted, and said, "Sir, the nurses told me you were here."

He nodded. "You were hoping to see Fuery?"

"Yes, sir."

Roy nodded, caught the attention of one of the nurses, and made a gesture that said he was taking Falman with him into the room. The head nurse, an older woman with red hair, nodded curtly and returned her attention to what she'd been doing before.

The rules for visiting a patent in the secured section of the hospital were pretty strict; family or superior officer only. Of course the loophole was that a superior officer could bring in junior staff members; therefore, any lower ranking officer could see a patent as long as they were with a superior officer.

Roy shook his head.

It would be better not to have such a dumb rule in the first place. That would save superior officers a lot of time.

Falman looked around the room at the accessories and smiled. "It was nice of the nurses to put all this stuff out for him."

He nodded. There had been plenty of unhappy people who had wanted to see Fuery, but had been turned away. All they could do was leave their cards, flowers, balloons, etc., and say they would come back when he was awake and not in a secured room.

Of course, with all the doctors saying he would live and with the case being settled as a crime by delinquent juveniles, there was really no reason to keep him in this ward, but they were doing it for security reasons just in case. Not that it would stop someone determined to kill the man off, but Roy didn't think anyone else would be going after Fuery. He'd only been meant to be a message...

"You couldn't have done anything," Falman said, and Roy looked up in surprise. He'd let his thoughts wander…

"Perhaps," Roy said noncommittally.

"He wouldn't want you to blame yourself," the other man said and put a hand on Roy's shoulder. Roy could only nod. He didn't believe it, not for a minute. If it hadn't been for him, then Fuery would probably be fine.

Falman looked as if he wanted to say more, but held himself back. Of course he held himself back. They both knew the room was heavily bugged.

"I'm sure we'll catch whatever punk kids did this," the graying man said meaningfully, then paused for a moment before saying, "I have to go, thanks for taking me in to see him." The man held out his hand and Roy took it.

After shaking hands, Roy was about to let go, but Falman held tighter. "Take care of yourself, sir." The worry was evident in his eyes. "You look tired. Try taking a break."

_You mean take care and watch my back. Perhaps try taking a break from this case..._ he thought, then said, "I'll try to take care of myself, but I have a job to do, and I'll do whatever it takes to get it done." With a sigh, Falman nodded and let go of Roy's hand. With a salute of farewell, the man left the hospital room.

For a moment, Roy just stood there, then sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. After a minute, he let go of the paper Falman had slipped him, took his hands out of his pockets and left the room.

* * *

"This is really good," Al said, grinning at Winry. She blushed slightly and his grin widened. It was always great to be able to say something that made her blush or smile.

"I agree," Pinako said. "Your cooking skills have really improved recently. I suppose when you have an incentive to excel in something it really makes a difference." Winry looked down at her plate and her blush deepened.

_Incentive?_ Al thought. He opened his mouth to ask what the old woman was talking about when suddenly the front door crashed open. All three of them turned to look and when Al saw who it was he scowled angrily.

"Well, I hope we aren't interrupting anything, but we're here to inspect. Make sure everything is alright," Colonel Archer said and walked into the room. The man was followed by Kimblee and a group of soldiers.

The three of them stood and Pinako walked toward them, growling, "Well as you can see, young man, we are all fine."

The pale man gave her a tight-lipped, condescending smile. "We'll just check around to make sure you don't have any 'uninvited guests' hanging around your house," he said, then motioned for the soldiers to begin their search.

"The only 'uninvited guests' here are you and your soldiers," Pinako replied.

"Hey!" Winry yelled, when one of the soldiers dumped a box of screws onto the floor, but the soldier paid her no mind. She growled and began walking forward as if to show the soldier who was boss, but Al grabbed her and held her back.

"Winry," he hissed softly.

"But, Al…" she looked up at him and he could see hurt frustration in her eyes.

Pressing his lips together, the teen turned to Archer and said, "I don't think your men are going to find anyone hiding in little boxes." Archer only shrugged and walked across the room to where the stairs were. Motioning to a few soldiers, the man began up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located. With an angry look on her face, Winry again tried to storm away, but Al kept a hold of her.

"This is _stupid_," she raged. "They're just doing this to be assholes!" She turned her angry glare to where Kimblee was standing with an amused grin on his face.

"Winry, calm down," Pinako said and pointed to a chair. "Sit. Being angry, or arguing, isn't going to help anything." With a huff, she sat heavily in one of the chairs, folded her arms, and looked away, but not before Al saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Feeling more upset about the fact that these men had made Winry cry than the invasion of their privacy, Al stepped forward as if to follow Archer up the stairs, but Kimblee instantly moved to his side and grabbed his arm.

"I don't think so," the dark-haired alchemist said, still wearing a small smirk on his face.

Quickly, Al weighed his options. He could fight the other alchemist, and probably lose, creating problems for all of them, or he could hold back… Al looked back at Winry who was now staring at him with frightened eyes.

Frightened for him…

With a sigh, Al nodded and said, "Fine." He tried to shake the man's hand off, but Kimblee wouldn't let go. In irritation, Al glared and said, "You can let me go, I won't cause any trouble."

The other alchemist's grin broadened and he tightened his grip on Al's arm. "I'm sure you would make a fine bomb," the man almost purred, then brought his other hand up to caress Al's face. "After I played with you a little."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. After he was _played _with? What did _that_ mean?

With a cry of rage, Winry launched herself at the dark-haired man and began hitting him with her fists. "Stay away from him, you sick _pervert_!"

Letting go, Kimblee started to fend her off, but Al had read enough about this man to know that he wouldn't hesitate killing her if he wanted to. Reaching out, Al grabbed a hold of her, pulling her away from the surprised man.

"Winry," he said, trying to calm her.

"Let me go, Al!" she screamed hysterically.

"No! Stop it! You're going to get hurt!" he yelled, wondering how long he'd be able to hold her back.

"What the hell is going on here?" Archer asked, descending the stairs with the other soldiers.

"This bitch just started attacking me for no reason," Kimblee said mildly.

At that, Winry screamed, "You _liar!_"

"Winry, stop!" Al pleaded. "Just ignore him."

With a sigh that was obviously fake, Archer said, "Really… I just don't see it…"

Al looked at him in confusion, then his eyes widened when he saw the piece of crumbled up paper in the man's hand. Anger flared up inside of him at having something so personal looked at. He almost wanted to let Winry go so that she could attack him, but he didn't. It would just make things worse.

"Have you thought about my offer?" the pale man asked.

Al silently glared at the man.

"I see. Well, think it over. I would hate for something… bad… to happen…" When he said the word 'bad', Archer's eyes flicked to Winry, then back. The man motioned the soldiers to the door, then said, "Sometimes soldiers get out of hand… I mean, I can't watch them all the time…"

"Get out of my house, _now_," Pinako demanded.

With a shrug, Archer walked toward the door. Kimblee was slower at leaving. The long-haired man looked at Al and let his eyes travel up and down his body before smirking again and following the others.

After the door closed, Winry turned around and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. "I hate that man. I hate him!" She sniffled and he knew she was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. With a sigh, Al wrapped his arms around her. He hated him too. He didn't like anyone who made her sad or upset. He only wanted to see smiles on her face.

"I'll protect you, Al," Winry said fiercely.

_She_ would protect _him_? What was she talking about? Al tightened his hold on her with a bad feeling that perhaps she was the one who needed protection.

* * *

Colonel Henry Douglas(2) stood with his arms folded as he scanned the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. He was here on orders from the higher-ups, but also on orders from Kagegkuski.

He was sort of the middle man in the communications between The People's Army and those in the military who supported them. Of course, he was sure there were others. He wasn't so stupid as to believe himself indispensable, but he knew he was fairly well trusted by both sides, and that made all the difference.

This was why Henry had been given this particular assignment. The higher-ups in the military that were conspiring with Kagegkuski knew there were a few investigations that were focused on finding them, and they wanted to put a stop to it.

He'd already detoured most of the investigation groups, but there was one in particular that…

The sound of pebbles crunching met his ears, and Henry whipped his head around toward the sound. It was dark and he couldn't see who was coming, but he knew it could be no one else than who he was waiting for.

When the sound stopped, the colonel pushed his glasses up and said, "It took you long enough."

Silence.

With a sigh, Henry said, "Has the investigation stopped?"

"No," the other said simply.

"Damn…" he whispered and ran his fingers through his white hair. "I've been told the target is still alive, but I don't think that matters. He was only to be a message anyway. That damn upstart doesn't know when to quit. Well, I guess we'll have to _make_ him quit."

Henry felt no remorse at killing off the leader of this investigation. The man was an annoyance and a threat to his career. No one should be able to advance in the ranks that quickly.

"Those who surround him will protect him," came the voice from the shadows. "They are extremely loyal."

Henry chuckled and asked, "_All_ of them?"

To that, there was no answer.

* * *

1- In chapter five I made a footnote about Rizembool being to the north, because on the fansub I had it said north, but then I was listening to the English dub and it said East... I was like, WTF?? So, there was nothing for it but for me to put it on Japanese and actually listen to what they were saying, and wouldn't you know it? Al said east... That really doesn't change much in this story. Rizembool will still be to the north in this story, and most likely in every other story of mine that you read because I think I like it being to the north… haha But I just wanted to put this note in for all the die-hards out there.

2- Henry Douglas is from the Manga.


	28. A Chance Meeting

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**A Chance Meeting**

Dominic LeCoulte(1) tightened a bolt, then picked up the automail arm and scrutinized it carefully. He turned it this way and that, giving it the inspection that only a seasoned automail mechanic could do.

"Try moving the fingers," he said gruffly. Paninya(2) nodded and moved her fingers as directed. "Good. Now move the wrist and then the elbow joint." She twisted her wrist, then brought the arm up in a position that looked like she wanted to arm wrestle…which, of course, was exactly how she'd broken the damn thing in the first place, Dominic thought with a scowl. "Well?" he asked irritably.

"It's great! Perfect! Like always," she said with a grin.

Putting his tools away, Dominic stood slowly and leaned against the shop counter. He winced at the thought that his arthritis was really beginning to act up and he was starting to actually feel his age.

"I don't want to see you doing any more fool things like that. I thought you'd learned your lesson," he growled.

"But I just wanted to prove…"

"You don't need to prove anything," he said, cutting her off.

"It wasn't anything dangerous, I was just…"

"Anyone who knows anything about automail, knows I do good work. I don't want you risking your body to persuade idiots."

She grinned sheepishly, "Okay… I'm sorry Domi…" The sound of the shop door opening caught their attention and Paninya cut off what she was about to say as they both looked to who was coming in the shop.

A short young man with braided blond hair walked through the doorway and shut the door behind him. He was wearing a long black overcoat over a black button up shirt; the top button undone, and black slacks. The stranger wearily set down the suitcase he was carrying and gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, I know your sign says closed, but…"

He never got a chance to finish.

"EEEED!!" Paninya squealed excitedly and launched herself over the counter. The young man's eyes widened and his grin took on an amused quality. "It's been so long! Is Winry with you?"

The blond young man shook his head apologetically. "No, sorry; it's just me."

The excitement seemed to drain from her. Her shoulders slumped a bit and she said, "Oh," clearly disappointed.

"Sorry," he said again.

"So, why are you here?" she asked, all of the girlish excitement completely gone now.

"Well, I need to get my leg extended and you said that your mechanic is really good…" he trailed off and looked over at Dominic.

Paninya scowled. "What about Winry?"

"What about her?" he asked. He seemed to be very aware of what the girl was referring to, but he was acting dumb about it. Dominic, for his part, had no idea what was going on. The name Winry _did_ seem a bit familiar, but he couldn't quite place it…

"You know what I mean," Paninya said. She punctuated her words by poking him in the chest.

He grinned. "Well, she's not here right now, and I need an adjustment." He shrugged. "But you _did_ say your mechanic was good. Can't I at least see what you're talking about?"

"Whatever, _bean_. Obviously you traveled here, so why not travel to her?"

His face soured and he stood straighter. "Who are you calling a_ bean_?! I've _GROWN _if you couldn't tell!"

"Well, actually I couldn't…" she began and laughed as he tried even harder to stand up straighter. "Okay, _maybe_ you've grown a little."

"_A little_?" he huffed and folded his arms. "I've grown more than that!"

"Okay, maybe you have." She grinned. "From now on, you shall be 'sprout', instead of 'bean'."

"Sprout?" he growled.

She nodded. "Yep. Sprout."

The blond looked like he was about to start yelling again, so Dominic figured it was time he stepped in and restored order.

"Okay, kids," he said loudly. They both looked at him as if they'd forgotten he was there. "Now," he said, looking at this 'Ed' character. "You're here for an adjustment?"

The blond—Ed—nodded. "Yeah, my leg is adjustable up to two inches. I was able to do the first inch, but I need to have a mechanic do the second."

"Why don't you just take it to your mechanic?"

The teen grimaced. "Er… it's complicated…"

Dominic frowned. "How so?"

Ed looked down and tapped his fingers on the counter.

"Remember my friend Winry?" Paninya asked. Dominic looked at her, trying again to remember where the name was from. "Remember? Blonde, young, cute... Rockbell?"

His eyes widened slightly and he cringed.

Oh, yes… _that_ Winry.

Dominic turned his gaze on the young man. "Your mechanic is a Rockbell?"

The blond looked up. "Yeah," he said in confusion.

"Say no more," the older man said with a wave of his hand. "I know how scary those Rockbell women can be sometimes." He thought of his experiences with Pinako Rockbell in the past, and shuddered. Pushing the memories away, he reached under the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"You'll need to sign this before I can work on you," he said, handing the teen a pen.

"What's this?" Ed asked, looking down at the paper.

"It's a waiver, saying that you are responsible for any damage that could be done to the automail while I'm working on it," he explained.

"What?!" Ed exclaimed. "How could it be _my_ fault if _you're_ the one working on it?"

"Oh, it's not, but this protects me in case your mechanic gets angry that I messed with her automail. There's also something on there about it being your decision to have me work on it."

Paninya walked over and said, "I've never seen you make anyone else sign a form like this…"

"No one else has had a Rockbell as their mechanic…"

* * *

Russell poked at the fire with a stick and looked over to where his traveling companion had gone. Supposedly, Urayami was taking a leak, but he'd been gone pretty long. The chemist was wondering if perhaps the other teen had been attacked and eaten by a wild animal.

No...

Russell wasn't that lucky.

At first, he'd been happy to have a traveling companion, and it was good that he seemed to have recruited someone for The People's Army, but after the first day he thought that maybe he'd rather travel alone.

The guy was just creepy, and he seemed to get stranger every day.

That first day the brunet had asked what seemed like a million questions. That would have been fine if they'd all been about The People's Army, but they weren't. As the day wore on, Urayami stopped asking questions about the rebellion and focused all his questions on Russell, and sometimes Fletcher.

The questions had continued the next day, and then the next, each one more personal than before. 'What did he think about this', or 'how did he feel about that', or even questions about how he'd react if this or that happened'… it was all so nerve wracking.

Russell heard some twigs snapping off to his right and a moment later the other teen came into sight. Russell sighed and looked back to the fire with the thought that if Urayami kept questioning him, the guy would know enough about him to actually be him…

* * *

Roy sighed as he stared down at the stack of documents waiting for him to read. It was times like this that he truly despised his career choice. Not that this was exactly his _first _choice—there were definitely other jobs in the military befitting someone of his rank that he'd rather have—but this job kept him close to those of higher rank.

He scanned the request form in front of him before he scribbled 'Request Denied' at the bottom with a few lines of explanation. He'd really love to kill that damn Hakuro for giving him some of the pointless shit he did. Roy went to the next page and scowled when he read what it said.

"Nice to see you're getting things done," Hawkeye said as she let herself into the office.

At that, Roy directed his scowl at her, then picked up the paper and handed it to her. "Give this to Tolten down at the warehouse. I don't even know how that ended up here, and I don't want to know."

"Yes, sir," she said calmly. "Anything else?"

_Yes, _he thought. _Find out where the hell Ed is..._ Three weeks was way too long. Ed should have returned a week ago, even two weeks ago. It shouldn't take three weeks to travel to Rush Valley, get an extension, and come back.

He jumped as his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a telephone. Instead of answering it, he waved a hand for the lieutenant to get it. After another ring he heard, "Colonel Mustang's office." Roy glanced up at her and watched as an amused smile crept across her face before she said, "Yes, he's legal... yes, that's right... Yes, he really is a State Alchemist."

He straightened and mouthed, 'Ed?'

She grinned but simply said into the phone, "No problem; goodbye."

As she hung up the phone, Roy asked, "What was that about?

Hawkeye opened her mouth to tell him when the phone rang again. He reached for it, but she beat him to it, grinned, and said, "Don't want to interrupt what you're doing."

He glared at her, feeling cheated out of his chance to delay what he was working on. Hawkeye's grin slowly faded and she listened to whoever was talking for a moment, then said, "Just a moment," before handing him the phone.

Roy glanced worriedly at her, and slowly said into the phone, "Colonel Mustang speaking."

"Good afternoon," a man's voice said. "This is Doctor Wilson Booth from the hospital. We have some good news and some bad news..."

* * *

Ed set the grocery sack down, leaned against the front of the store and scowled darkly before opening the new pack of cigarettes. Was he legal? Of _course_ he was fucking legal! He wasn't _that_ short! Still seething over the clerk's attitude, Ed pulled one of the smokes out of the pack and slipped it between his lips before pulling out his lighter.

The fact that he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before added to his irritability. After signing numerous forms and promising that he'd never reveal who had worked on his automail to either Winry or Pinako, the old guy had finally agreed to do the extension.

While he waited, Paninya had badgered him for reasons why he was 'slighting' Winry by not having her do the extension. After the extension was complete, they had offered him a place to sleep for the night since it was so late. He almost refused, but his cheap side finally won out and he ended up sleeping on the couch. He'd gotten exactly what he'd paid for in that. It was lumpy and he'd tossed and turned all night.

Ed lit the cigarette and took a drag before slowly blowing out the smoke. And, of course, there was the fact that he'd be heading back to Central today. Part of him wanted to delay returning, but he'd already stayed in all of the towns on the way to Rush Valley. He sighed. He still hadn't made a decision about what to do concerning Mustang. He wanted to stay with him, but...

Every time Ed thought about going back and living with the colonel again, he just ended up feeling mad. He wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to be included. It was obvious something dangerous was going on. He wanted to protect Roy...

Ed put the cigarette in between his lips and left it there. This was all just so fucked up... Even though he wanted to continue being mad, he still thought about him, still dreamt about him, still wanted him...

"Damn this whole mother fucking situation..." Ed muttered around the cigarette and thought that there was no way his life could get any worse at this moment.

Suddenly the door to the next shop over opened and a big muscled man wearing black pants and a dark brown shirt came walking out carrying a long flat box. Ed's eyes widened as he recognized the man. Quickly picking up his bag, Ed turned to walk away before he was seen, but it was too late...

* * *

Winry gazed out of the window to where Al was sitting on the back porch. He was tapping his pen against his cheek as he stared fixedly down at a pad of paper. He was at it again. Winry didn't know what he could be writing, but she was beginning to be more than a little curious.

At first, she'd wondered if he was working on a new array, but then decided that probably wasn't it. He would have told her about it. He always talked to her about whatever he did with alchemy, and she always listened, even when she had no idea what he was talking about.

It was nice when he talked to her. Sometimes he would come into the work area of the house and just rattle off his ideas to her while she worked. She loved hearing his voice, and it was so wonderful to have him around. Winry just wanted to be with him forever.

She sighed and let her forehead touch the glass windowpane. Alphonse hadn't said anything else about going to find Ed; and, in a way, she was glad. Winry couldn't bear the thought of him going away. It was such a sad and lonely thought, and she always got tears in her eyes at the thought of it.

The corner of her lips pulled up in a small smile as she watched Al shake his head in frustration and start over on a clean page, then the smile faded.

But...

She knew he longed to find Ed. Alphonse wasn't the type of person who liked contention. He wanted to make sure Ed was alright, and he wanted to try to work out whatever had caused Ed to blow up like that. Winry knew this, even though Al had said nothing about it.

Winry sniffled a little and pulled away from the window. She looked at the door for a moment before letting herself outside. It was warm out, but not hot like it had been earlier. The sun would set soon and the heat of the day was slowly beginning to dull.

"Hey," she said softly and he started before hurrying to put the cover on the notepad.

"Winry," he said in surprise as he turned a little to watch her walking toward him. She looked down at him for a moment before sitting beside him. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

He shrugged and said, "Well... I don't know. You just seem a little down, that's all."

_I am_, she thought, but she didn't say that. Instead, she said, "I've been thinking..."

"Oh?"

She nodded and looked across the vast expense of grass beyond the house. "I think that your injuries should be almost healed by now."

"Yeah, I was thinking that too. I rarely get any pain at all anymore."

Winry glanced at him, then away. "When do you think you'll leave to go find Ed?" She asked.

He was silent for several moments before he said, "I don't know... I'm not sure... Maybe I shouldn't... I mean, if I stayed here, then he'd know where to find me, but there are many places he could be and I could spend a long time searching. Even then, if he doesn't want to be found, I'm sure he could get others not to tell me where he is."

The last was said with a slightly bitter note and she glanced at him again, studying his face. Had something happened that made him believe that, or was that just something he was afraid might happen?

She glanced away and said softly, "I think..." She stopped for a moment. She didn't want her voice to shake when she said this. "I think you should go..."

He looked at her and said, "What?"

"I want you to be happy, Al; and I just... I don't know..."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked and she could hear hurt in his voice.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed and looked at him. "I want you to stay here with me, but... I know that you're worried about Ed. I... I don't want you guys to be fighting. I don't want you to be unhappy... I don't want to be the one holding you back..."

Her words trailed off as he began shaking his head. "Staying has been my decision. If I _really_ wanted to find Ed, I would have already gone. I would have left weeks ago, but, Winry, I..." His cheeks took on a pinkish hue and he looked down. "I wanted to stay with you too." This came out as a whisper and for a moment he didn't say anything, then looked back up at her. "I know Ed is okay. Well, at least, I'm pretty sure he's okay and that he's being taken care of."

She opened her mouth to ask why he thought this, but he kept talking, "I _will_ find him, Winry, but right now I have something more important that I need to do." His cheeks flushed even more and he looked away. "Besides... I don't know what I'd say to him. Whenever I think about that night..."

He shook his head. "I don't know. Sometimes I get really mad at him because of the things he did, not just to me, but to you too. And then, sometimes I feel bad. I mean, I knew something was wrong with him. He was always being so uptight and..." A sigh. "Maybe I could have done something..."

It was her turn to shake her head. "No, this wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself, Al."

"Yeah... maybe..." he said noncommittally and looked away.

"No, not 'maybe.' You can't blame all bad things that happen on yourself. Sometimes things happen that are out of our control. You couldn't have controlled Ed. Maybe there were things that you could have done differently, but you didn't. You can't change the past; you can only go forward."

She paused, dying inside because she didn't want to say the next thing on her mind, but she knew they were the right things to say. "Perhaps, that's why you need to go find him. The sooner the two of you work things out, the better it will be."

He glanced at her with a small smile, then said, "Maybe you're right. I'll have to think more about it."

Winry wanted to push him to make a decision, she felt like she was being left hanging, still unsure about what would happen next, but she didn't. This was the most he had talked to her about that night and she wanted it to end on a good note.

"Okay..." she said, then gave in to the sudden urge to lay her head against his shoulder. Winry smiled when she felt his arm wrap timidly around her shoulder and pull her close to him.

Her eyes fell on the notepad and she fought the urge to ask him what he was working on. He'd tell her, eventually...

* * *

1- Episode 26

2- Also Episode 26


	29. Determination

**Descent**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Determination**

Roy leaned against the desk and waited for the head nurse to get off the phone. She was an older woman with fiery-red hair and way too much makeup. He tried not to blanch at the 'mothball' scent that permeated from her and when she hung up the phone, he said politely, "I'm here to see Master Sergeant Kain Fuery."

She stared silently at him for a moment and he sighed before reaching for his wallet. The woman was a stickler for protocol. Despite the fact that he came almost every day to see his subordinate, the woman insisted that he show identification.

Roy pulled out his wallet and opened it to his military photo identification. Not the watch; no, that thing meant nothing to her. He also pulled out the form from Kain's file that showed that he was, indeed, under Roy's command.

The woman—her nametag read Tabitha Crenshaw—studied the photo ID, then looked up at him and said, "You know where the room is, Colonel?"

Roy nodded as he walked away and stuffed his wallet back in his pocket. As much as he disliked dealing with the woman, he felt that Fuery's safety mattered more than him being inconvenienced.

He was about to put his hand on the doorknob when he heard, "Colonel Mustang," behind him. Roy turned and saw Doctor Booth walking toward him. He sighed. It was obvious that Doctor Booth didn't like him, but he probably deserved the dislike given how he'd acted that first day he came to see Fuery in the hospital.

"Doctor," Roy said in a mild greeting.

"Colonel, a moment of your time, if you don't mind."

"I actually don't have much of that at the moment. Perhaps we could talk another time?" he suggested, not really in the mood to speak with the man.

"Colonel Mustang, we've done some tests on Mr. Fuery and his memory is..."

"You told me this on the phone," Roy interrupted.

"I told you a few rudimentary things. Before you decide to either keep him in the military or discharge him, I think it would be best if we went over a few things."

"Fine. I'll make an appointment with your secretary," Roy said briskly. "Now if you'll excuse me." He turned and opened the door. Letting himself into the room, Roy shut the door and walked slowly to the bed in the dimly lit room.

Careful.

He'd have to be very careful about what he said in here.

During his visits, Roy had located several of the bugs hidden about the room and he'd desperately wanted to turn them off, but he didn't. He didn't want anyone to know that he was aware of them. Roy's gaze rested on Fuery, and he saw that the smaller man's eyes were open and watching him. Roy smiled, pulled a chair up near the bed and sat down.

"Hi, Kain," Roy whispered.

"Hi..." the man replied slowly, uncertainty filling his voice.

Roy looked at him for several moments before saying anything else, then said, "Do you know who I am?"

Fuery searched his face, then sighed and shook his head. "You look... familiar... but, I'm sorry, I just don't know..."

"I see," Roy said softly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Sometimes, but it comes and goes. The doctor said it's probably temporary... I hope so..."

Roy nodded. "I hope so too, Kain."

They looked at each other for a moment before Fuery asked, "So... who are you?"

Roy smiled a little and said, "My name is Roy Mustang. I'm your commanding officer." When the man's forehead crinkled in confusion, Roy said, "You're a master sergeant in the military."

"Oh..." Kain murmured, obviously not sure what to do with that information.

"I can't stay long, but I came down here as soon as they let me know you were awake."

"Oh. Well... thanks." The man paused, then asked in a small voice, "Will you come visit me again?" He looked afraid and Roy could only imagine how it must feel to remember nothing about your past.

Standing, Roy nodded. "Of course. I promise." He gave Fuery one last smile in an effort to be comforting, then stared for the door. Suddenly, Fuery called to him.

"Wait!"

Turning around, Roy glanced at the smaller man who was struggling to sit up. Kain's eyes were wide and a bit of confusion mixed in with the look as well. The man's face seemed to lose what little color it had previously had. "You're in danger..." Kain whispered, then terror flashed across his face and he buried his head in his hands.

Quickly, Roy walked back and put his hand on Fuery's shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, wondering if the man was in pain. "Do you need me to get you a doctor or a nurse?"

Kain's head shook to the negative, then he slowly looked up at Roy. Panic and alarm filled Fuery's features and he grabbed weakly onto Roy's arm. "I don't know why... or how... but suddenly..." Kain shook his head and Roy could see tears shimmering in his eyes. "I think I'm afraid to remember... I'm sorry..."

Pressing his lips together, Roy looked down at his subordinate with concern and worry. After what had happened, he supposed he'd be afraid to remember too. "Don't worry about it," Roy said with a small smile. "Just..." Just what? Remember soon so he could use the man again? Hurry up and get well so that he could be in danger again?

Probably, it was best if Kain never remembered anything.

"Just, rest. It will all be okay, you'll see," he finished.

By the look on Kain's face, the man didn't look too convinced. "Please... be careful."

Roy sighed softly. He wanted to assure the man that everything would be fine, or maybe even fill him in on some things, but he couldn't. Not here. Not in this bugged hospital room.

"I'll try, Kain..." he said quietly. "I'll try."

* * *

Ed glanced from the window to where Sig Curtis sat on the other train bench in front of him. The large butcher was silently studying him and Ed had to fight the urge to run away.

Sighing irritably, Ed reached over and fished a pen out of one of the side pockets on his... Roy's... suitcase before leaning against the window and putting the tip of the pen in his mouth. What he really needed right now was a fucking cigarette.

This was all Havoc's fault.

Ed fiddled idly with the pen, running it back and forth over his lips.

It felt so much better to have someone to blame. He couldn't blame Havoc for everything, but for getting him hooked on smoking, he definitely blamed the man. At least, right now he did. Ed knew that it had been his choice, but he was overlooking that fact for now until he could get a fix.

Again he glanced at Sig and began sucking on the pen.

South.

He was going south.

Damn it all...

Not that he was in any big hurry to get back to Central; in fact, he'd felt that he needed more time to think, but going to Dublith had definitely not been in his plans...

"She'll be glad to see you," Sig said in his deep voice and Ed sighed.

"No, she won't..." he muttered, trying to push down his nervousness. Izumi would probably skin him alive...

He hadn't seen her since she'd come to visit them in Rizembool after he'd gotten Al's body back, and she'd constantly been trying to get him alone. Ed knew she wanted to ask him about how he'd done the impossible, and so he'd avoided being alone with her.

He'd also been extremely moody at the time, but had tried really hard to be pleasant when she and Sig had been there. Ed frowned unhappily. If only he had tried to be more pleasant to Al... but what was done, was done. There was nothing he could do but go forward...

Somehow...

Ed absentmindedly pushed his bangs back. He didn't want to tell her, but it was hard to not tell her something when she asked; Izumi was just that kind of woman. But here he was, on his way to see her. He could have said 'no' when Sig had asked him to come, but he couldn't. The big man's eyes had held a look that spoke volumes.

She wasn't getting better. Izumi only looked strong, but Ed knew it was only a matter of time before she could no longer maintain that tough exterior. The consequences of her sin were taking their fatal toll on her and someday...

Someday soon...

Ed shook his head. He didn't want to think of that. She had been their teacher, but she'd also been something more. Izumi had been like a second mother to him and Al, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing yet another mother...

He supposed that was part of why he had a difficult time not telling something if she asked. He couldn't, though... he just couldn't. It had hurt too much, telling her what Al and he had done, how they'd tried to bring back their mother, but this...

No.

He couldn't.

He was too ashamed.

Ed couldn't tell her, and he couldn't tell Al. If his brother knew that he'd gotten his body back because Ed had...

No...

He had to keep this from Al to protect him. Not knowing would be better for him. Al was too gentle of a person. It would hurt him too much if he knew...

* * *

Al looked down at the paper and sighed. After all the work he'd put into this, he'd only been able to produce something so...

Mediocre...

The urge to crumple the paper up and try again was strong, but he refrained. So it wasn't perfect... neither was he. There really wasn't anything more he could think of to make it better. This just wasn't his strong point, but he'd wanted to do something like this...

Letting out his breath in exasperation, Al set the paper on the desk, got up from his chair and flopped down on his bed.

"I can't do this..." he whispered to himself. His heart beat wildly just thinking about it and the air suddenly seemed thicker. He turned onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. Although he'd been planning this for a while, he couldn't help feeling scared to death. What if he was wrong about the signals he'd been getting? What if...

No.

Al began hitting his head against his pillow.

No, he...

"What are you doing?"

Al froze in the act of hitting his head yet another time against his pillow, then quickly rolled over so he could look at the door. Unfortunately, he was too close to the edge of the bed and he fell off, landing painfully on the floor.

Feeling completely mortified, Al felt blood rush to his cheeks and he glanced up to where Winry was sticking her head into the room. Her lips were pressed together as if she were trying to hold back a laugh.

"Are you alright?" she asked, amusement mixing with concern.

"Yeah..." he muttered and was about to get to his feet when the sound of barking coming closer met his ears. He looked up at Winry, who was looking out the door.

"Den!" she yelled and moments later a small brown blur raced into the room and hid under the bed. This was followed by Den trying to come into the room, but Winry pushed him out and shut the door.

He could hear her scolding the dog on the other side of the door and he lay down on his back and sighed. For a moment he just stared up at the ceiling, then he turned his head and looked at the small brown tabby.

Al let a smile touch his lips and he wiggled his fingers for the kitten to come. For a moment, CinCin simply looked at him, then she came out and rubbed her head against his fingers.

"What do you think?" he asked the kitten.

The small animal simply ignored him and instead scampered to one of the crumpled up wads of paper and began batting at it.

"Thanks..." he muttered and laid his arm over his eyes before sighing in resignation.

He'd just have to do it.

That's all there was to it.

* * *

Russell glanced over at Urayami feeling frustrated and angry. And yet another day of the other teen's ceaseless questions and commentary. Did he even know the meaning of the words 'none of your business'? The questions had gone from personal, to very personal; as in, what were his favorite sex positions and the like.

He'd tried hinting that perhaps Urayami should split off from him and travel east without him, but the guy was dead set on traveling north with him. Somehow he had to get away. He just didn't think he could handle being around the other teen any longer. Even if it meant sneaking away in the middle of the night, Russell was determined to get to Rizembool without this nuisance...

* * *

Roy sighed heavily and shut the door behind him. It had been another long day. He bent over, untied his boots and pulled them off before making his way into the kitchen. And now, it would be another long, lonely night. He opened the cupboard, grabbed one of the bottles and glanced at the black label covering the square bottle and nodded.

That would work.

He breathed in quickly, then took a drink before tossing the top on the counter and making his way back to the bedroom. As he walked, Roy took another swig and began undoing the buttons on his uniform jacket.

He crossed his bedroom and set the bottle down before taking his jacket off and hanging it up. It was the least he could do... Roy knew it would be better if he took off the rest of his uniform, but he didn't. Instead, he pulled his white button up shirt out of his pants then threw himself on his bed.

Rolling over, Roy grabbed the bottle, propped himself up for a moment, and took a deep drink of the amber colored liquid. He set the bottle down and stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything that was going on.

He didn't know what to do about Kain Fuery. The man could be in danger again if the wrong people believed he would say the wrong things, but he could also be a huge liability if he told those wrong people about Roy's plans...

Roy took another drink and thought about the implications of this and how he could possibly protect himself and his subordinates. It didn't take long for him to devise something that might work, which was good since the more he drank, the less he was able to concentrate. He had a great buzz going and he just needed to relax, not worry about his plans and ambitions.

Roy's glanced over to the bookshelf where Ed's red coat hung where the teen had left it. Ed never wore it anymore, given how much he was growing, and Roy supposed he understood it being left here. Ed didn't have any more use of it. He used the black overcoat issued to him by the military when he wanted a coat.

It was sad, in a way, because the red coat just seemed so much a part of Ed. He had worn it so much that it was strange to think that he wouldn't be wearing it any longer.

Roy stared at it a moment longer, then took another swig from the bottle before pulling out his watch. Opening it, Roy looked at the picture of him and Maes inside and said, "What do _you_ think?"

"_I think you should stop focusing on Ed so much."_ Words from long ago echoed in his head. _"I think that you even considering that boy for a partner is wrong."_

Roy hadn't said anything at the time and even now he kept quiet, letting his dead friend's words ring loudly in his ears.

"_Ed is fourteen years younger than you, Roy. You need someone your own age and someone who can handle all that comes with having you as a partner..."_

"Ed can handle it," Roy murmured to the picture and took another drink. "He's just acting like a little brat right now. There are just some things I can't tell him. You understand that, right, Maes? I mean, you should. You kept me in the dark until the very end..."

Until the end.

Roy felt tears gather in his eyes and he snapped the watch shut and set it on the night stand before letting his fingers brush against the bottle. If he got Ed involved... But he wouldn't.

He couldn't.

Roy didn't think he'd be able to handle it if anything happened to Ed. Besides, there really was no reason to get him involved. It was better just to keep him researching and away from the danger; away from suspicion...

"Ed, where are you?" he whispered.

Roy had figured maybe two weeks at the most, but it was going on three weeks now and he hadn't even gotten a phone call from him. He really felt like this situation was out if his control and it was driving him crazy.

Taking another drink from the bottle, Roy opened the drawer and took out a picture of Ed that he'd taken a couple of weeks before he'd left. He wasn't naked like Roy had wanted him to be; Ed had been too embarrassed to have a nude picture taken of him, but he definitely looked sexy as hell just wearing one of Roy's white button up shirts.

Roy leaned the picture against the bottle and smiled faintly at the photo before frowning. Ed had made it quite clear that he didn't like how much Roy drank. It was stupid, really... It wasn't as if he was drunk all the time. He didn't drink at work normally, but lately he had been so stressed that he'd taken a little nip here and there throughout the day, but no one seemed to notice, so it was no big deal...

Suddenly a fuzzy memory flashed through his mind; a memory of having Ed's head in his hands, of not letting the teen pull away, of forcing his drunk young lover to swallow...

With shaking hands, Roy moved the picture aside, grabbed the bottle and took a long drink.

_I didn't do that..._ Roy thought desperately. _I didn't. It was just a dream. If I had, Ed would have said something..._

A small voice inside his head, that sounded suspiciously like Maes's voice, said, _'Wasn't it right after that night that Ed started protesting your drinking?'_

Roy picked up the picture and stared at it. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that was correct. He also knew in that same deep down place that what had happened the night he and Ed had gotten sloshed was no dream.

But he didn't want to believe it.

He couldn't.

Roy didn't want to think that he was capable of hurting Ed like that...

Maybe Ed had a right to be angry.

Maybe.

Roy shook his head, put his arm under his pillow, laid his head on the pillow, and set the picture where he'd be able to see it easily. No... it had just been a dream. That was all... Ed was much more physically capable than he was. There was no way he could force Ed into doing something he didn't want to do.

His eyelids felt heavy and his body felt comfortably warm. Roy let his eyes shut and he instantly saw Ed in his mind.

No.

There was nothing wrong with him or how much he drank; Ed was simply making a big deal out of nothing.


	30. Expression of Love

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty**

**Expression of Love**

**-**

"You don't like it?"

Al looked up at Winry's worried face and said, "Huh?"

She glanced down at his plate where he had been idly pushing his food around. "Your breakfast; you're not eating. I just thought that maybe you didn't like it..."

He stared at her face for a moment, and thought that perhaps she seemed a little sad that he might not like what she had cooked. "No! It's not that!" he exclaimed and stuffed a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

The truth was that he was so nervous... Food was the furthest thing from his mind right now, but he didn't want her to think that he didn't like her cooking. She really had improved a lot since he'd been there. Not that her food had been bad before, but she had been taking a lot of time to learn more recipes and had been cooking a lot more than usual lately.

"Then what is it?" she asked as he took a big bite of his toast.

He stopped chewing and looked at her with one of his cheeks bulging with food. He made a "mmmm" noise, then held up a finger to signal he'd need a moment to clear his mouth out. He chewed a couple more times and tried to swallow, but it got caught in his throat and he had to take a drink before he could speak.

"I was just thinking; that's all. Really, the food is very good." He grinned then cleared his throat. "The best."

At the compliment, she beamed and took a bite of her own breakfast before looking at Pinako and saying, "We're out of flour and the butter is running low too..."

Al ignored the chitchat between the two women and concentrated on eating as fast as he could.

* * *

"Okay! I'm done!"

Winry glanced at Al who was licking the milk off his upper lip and standing up. "That was fast..." she said.

"Yeah, I, um...I've got something to do. Breakfast was great!" he said with a big grin.

She returned the grin with one of her own and watched him as he picked up his dishes and took them to the sink. Winry loved how he did that. It wasn't as if Al was a neat freak, but he liked to keep things neat and in order.

Winry smiled a sad smile. That was another way Al and Ed were so different. Ed had never been an extremely clean person, not that he'd been a slob, but he was the type that would leave his dishes on the table to worry about later, if he could. The only reason Ed and Al had been so organized when they'd traveled was because Alphonse had kept up on it and nagged at Ed when he'd been too lazy.

Winry let her gaze fall to her plate and she took a slow bite of her food. Would Ed ever contact them? If not, then when would Al leave to go find him? Al had said that he had some things to take care of before he left, but what were they? And how quickly would they be taken care of?

He wasn't even gone yet and she already missed him. Winry sighed and dragged her fork across her plate. She was being stupid. Even if Al left, he would come back. She shouldn't worry about it.

Frowning down at her food, Winry no longer felt hungry. She glanced up and saw that Pinako was watching her with a concerned look on her face. Instantly, Winry sat up straight and smiled broadly. No need to worry her grandmother.

"I'm finished. I think I'm going to change into my work clothes and get started on that order we got in yesterday!"

Pinako raised an eyebrow at Winry's sudden display of energy, but only nodded. Winry picked up her dishes, scraped the leftover food in the garbage and rinsed off her plate before leaving the room and heading upstairs.

She was fine.

Really.

When he left to find Ed, Al would come back to her if he felt anything for her at all. She just needed to keep her spirits up. Slipping into her room and closing the door quietly behind her, Winry leaning back against the door and let her eyes wander over her room, cringing involuntarily. Tools lay scattered here and there and her bed hadn't been made in weeks...

Winry sighed and sagged against the door.

She was just as messy as Ed.

Even more so, really...

Winry trudged over to the 'clean clothes' basket and pulled out her faded purple overalls. She thought that maybe she should start being cleaner. Perhaps Alphonse saw how horrible she was at keeping her personal space organized and maybe he thought... Winry shook her head, trying to clear it. That was just dumb. Al was just shy. It wasn't as if he didn't care for her.

At least, she thought he cared for her.

Winry pulled the overalls up, then sat down on her bed. Maybe he just cared for her like a sister. But if that was so, then why would he have kissed her? She looked up to where the small mirror hung above her dresser before getting up and staring into it. Turning her head this way and that, Winry frowned and thought that perhaps she should dress up like the other girls did when they wanted to attract someone.

At that thought, Winry scowled. She'd always believed in the past that dressing up to attract a guy was just pure foolishness. A man should love you for who you are and not for what you pretend to be. Of course, she'd never felt the need to impress someone before, but now...

Winry grabbed her faded red bandana and tied it on top of her head.

Now, she was just being stupid.

Just... stupid...

Feeling confused and more than a little depressed, Winry left her room and made her way downstairs. She would just bury her problems in her work. Yep, that's what she'd do. Working on automail always helped her feel better; helped her forget her problems, at least for a short time.

Opening the door to the work area, Winry let herself into the room and started toward the work bench and stopped when her eyes fell on a sheet of paper laying on the nut and bolt strewn table.

Eyebrows knitting in confusion, Winry slowly walked forward, then picked the paper up. Before she concentrated on the words, her brain had already recognized the handwriting as Alphonse's.

_A bolt and a wrench, a small piece of chalk  
__The beginnings of magic, right here in your shop  
__You build and create, and I do that too  
__We can change people's lives with the things that we do  
__In alchemy we say, to receive we must give  
_  
'_All is one, and one is all,' that's how we must live  
__There is nothing equivalent about the exchange I propose_

_I...  
__I am lower than the dirt  
__I am nothing  
__I am only rough components in a transmutation never preformed  
__  
You...  
__You are a beautiful angel  
__You are everything  
__You are the finished product, a well oiled machine_

_It is impossible to exchange nothing for everything_

_At least, that's what they say  
__But I've never been known  
__To leave well enough alone  
__So I will try anyway_

_My life for your life  
__Un-equivalent exchange  
__To build and create  
__Take charge of our fate_

_To love and to cherish  
__To have and to hold  
__To be together always, until we are old  
__  
Let me tell you I love you—because you're my life  
__Please say that you love me—because I want you for my wife_

_- Alphonse _

A smile formed on her face and tears gathered in her eyes as she read, and reread, the note.

He loved her...

He wanted to marry her...

Winry pressed the note to her chest and looked up at the ceiling. When she blinked, the tears that had formed in her eyes now trickled slowly down her cheeks. All that worrying had been for nothing!

She sniffled and when she looked back down, she noticed that a transmutation circle had been drawn on the wood and a thin ring sat in the center. Winry reached over and gingerly picked it up. It was smooth and gleamed dully where the light from the window touched its surface. It was the color of... She peered at it more closely, then glanced over to the table where some bolts lay. Curious, Winry picked one of the bolts up and compared the color to the ring.

It was the same.

The metal was the same too.

With a smile, Winry set the bolt down and slipped the ring onto her finger. He had created it from the automail bolts. She thought she'd die from happiness. Winry read the paper again, then turned quickly and rushed out of the work room.

"Al!" she yelled, running up to his room. Winry threw open the door, and quickly looked around.

No one was there.

"Al?" she called again and ran down the stairs.

Winry dashed out the door and ran around the house calling his name, but there was no answer. _Where could he have gone?_ she wondered as she walked into the house.

* * *

Pinako walked into the house and saw Winry sitting at a table, looking around in frustration.

"I thought you were going to work on that project?" she asked the girl.

Winry sighed wearily and asked, "Granny, have you seen Al?"

"Yes, I have," she said around her pipe.

"You have?" she cried, standing quickly in her excitement. "Where is he?"

She raised an eyebrow at this sudden exuberance and said, "I sent him into town to pick up some things from the grocer."

At that, Winry froze and stared at her with a look of utter disbelief. "You... sent him... to town...?"

Pinako nodded. "You said that we needed more flour and butter, and he was pacing around like the world was about to end so I gave him something to do."

Winry plopped back down with a whined, "Graaaaany!"

"What," Pinako asked flatly. She had a feeling she was missing something here.

"How long ago did you send him?" Winry asked with a small pout.

"About a half hour ago," she answered, then added, "He should be back in another hour or so." At this, Winry sighed and stared at the front door for a moment, before getting up. "Where are you going?" Pinako asked.

"I'm going to town," Winry answered in determination.

"To find Alphonse?" Her grand daughter nodded and Pinako shook her head. "Better just to wait here. You might miss him while you're looking for him."

Winry seemed to think about this for a moment, then sighed heavily. "You're right..." she murmured, though she didn't sound very happy about it.

* * *

Alphonse sighed and glanced down at the list Pinako had given him. He'd gotten everything that was on the list, but he'd been in such a hurry that he worried that perhaps he'd forgotten something.

He wanted to get back to the house and yet he didn't want to go back...

What if she said 'no'?

What if she got mad because he used some of her bolts to make her ring?

What if she laughed at him or at what he'd written?

Not for the first time, Al thought that maybe he should have waited. Perhaps he could have made it better...

He sighed.

Well, it was too late for that now. He'd already done it and now here he was... not there...

Al walked toward the sales clerk with a heavy feeling in his chest. He was dying to know what she'd say, but he was also scared to death.

What if she said 'no'?

What if she sad '_yes_'?

That thought almost terrified him even more than a 'no' answer. He couldn't imagine himself being married; couldn't imagine that she would really want him. But then, he couldn't imagine himself without her either. Al dreamt about her all the time and he was embarrassed to admit that some of his dreams were down right... He blushed at the thought; blushed that he might really be able to do... with her...

"Alphonse?"

He blinked and looked at the old woman who ran Rizembool's small grocery store. He hadn't realized he was next. The woman grinned and said, "You look like you're thinking about something pleasant." His blush deepened and she said, "Or _someone_ pleasant perhaps...?"

He smiled sheepishly and ducked his head. "Yeah... kinda..."

The woman, Marie Redharring, chuckled and began adding up his purchases. "Couldn't be Winry Rockbell, could it?" she asked with a knowing look.

Alphonse dug out the money Pinako had given him and gave Marie enough to cover what he was buying. "Maybe..." he muttered.

"Uh huh... You know... that girl is way too old to be single." She peered at him meaningfully. "How old are you now?"

Al shook his head. She might as well come out and say that he needed to get married too. Winry was older than him by only six months. "Sixteen," he said and watched her put the items in a bag for him.

"Sixteen huh? Well, you know, for a man, that's not a bad age to find a girl to settle down with..." she glanced at him for a moment and he nodded. Al had no desire to tell her that he'd already proposed since he still didn't know what her answer would be.

Probably it would be 'no'...

"Well, here you go," the woman said, handing him the sack and his change. "Just keep in mind what I said."

Taking the money from her and stuffing it in his pocket, Al nodded and lifted the bag off the counter before making his way out of the store with a mixed feeling of relief, nervousness, and excitement. As he stepped out onto the road that would lead him out of Rizembool's town proper, a figure, who had been leaning against the wall, stepped out in front of him.

"Well, what do we have here?"

"Kimblee..." Al muttered and tried to step around the man, but the other merely stepped to the side, blocking Al's way.

"I thought you were a house pet that was only let out when your mistress went with you," the dark-haired man said with a small mocking smile.

Al tapped his fingers against the brown paper sack, then said irritably, "She isn't my _mistress_; now get out of my way." After what had happened with the soldiers tearing apart the house, and Archer threatening Winry indirectly, Al had no desire to interact with anyone from the military, least of all Kimblee.

Instead of moving aside, Kimblee glanced at the sack and said, "It seems your mistress has trained you well. What other errands do you do for her?" When Al didn't answer, the man stepped forward and said in a low voice, "How do you keep her satisfied? Has she trained you well in that area too?"

Al's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Trained him?

Kimblee smirked when he saw Al's reaction. "I guess not. Well, perhaps I'll have to do that for her..." the other man said, lifting his hand and gently running his finger along Al's cheek.

Feeling a little disgusted with the close proximity of Kimblee and the contact, Al stepped back and glared. "I don't know what you're talking about, and I have a feeling I don't want to know either." He paused, simply looking at the man, then said, "I do know if you... _any_ of you... touch Winry, you'll regret it."

At that, Kimblee laughed and said, "I think you're talking to the wrong person about that."

Al began walking past the man at a distance and said, "Just so you know..."

Kimblee shrugged and began walking the other way. "We'll meet again, Alphonse Elric, and when we do..." Al turned around and quickly walked down the road. He didn't want to think about what had just happened. The man was dangerous and he didn't want anything to do with him.

* * *

Winry scanned the road, eagerly waiting for Al to return. It had been almost two and a half hours and still no sign of him. Suddenly she saw someone in the distance and she shaded her eyes with her hand to see better.

Was it him?

Could it be...?

Her heart beat with excitement as she waited. Whoever it was, they were too far to make out. The figure stopped and raised a hand, waving at her. Her breath caught in her throat and she grinned widely before raising her own hand, then she raced down the steps and began running.

* * *

Al walked down the road, trying to push Kimblee out of his mind. He felt frustrated and angry that the military was there at all, but to send scum like Archer and Kimblee, well...

Abruptly, he realized that he was almost home. He'd been so caught up with his dark thoughts that he hadn't thought about what was waiting for him. He looked up at the large, yellow house and smiled when he saw a figure standing on the porch.

It was obviously Winry and he lifted his hand to wave at her. Instantly, her hand shot up and it waved wildly above her head, then suddenly she began running toward him. His first instinct was to look to make sure there wasn't a wrench in her hand since he'd killed off some of her bolts to make the ring, but when he saw her hands were empty he let out a sigh of relief.

"Alphonse!" he heard her yelling and he set down the bag and began walking toward her. "Yes!" she yelled, and he felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

Yes.

She'd said 'yes'!

He started jogging toward her and he thought that he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as she was with her long blond hair fluttering out behind her. As she neared him, Winry yelled, "YES, ALPHONSE, YES!" and crashed into him, wrapping her arms around his chest. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Al wrapped his arms tightly around her and breathed her scent in. She felt so good in his arms, so right. Winry pulled away slightly and looked up into his face. Her eyes shone with excitement and happiness. "Yes," she whispered.

He gazed deeply into her eyes, those large pools of dark blue, then leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips.

"I'm glad," he whispered unsteadily, then pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. "I'm so glad..."


	31. Sparring

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

**Sparring**

**-**

As the train pulled into the small station in Dublith, Ed tapped his fingers impatiently on his suitcase. He just wanted the train to stop so that he could get out and have a smoke. At this moment, that was all he cared about. He felt jittery and irritable, and the damn train was just taking its sweet time.

When the announcement came that passengers could unload, Ed jumped up, grabbed his suitcase, and pushed people out of his way as he hurried toward the door. As soon as he was off the train, Ed dropped the suitcase, pulled a cigarette out, and lit it.

After he took the first drag, Ed glared down at the cigarette. Since leaving Central, he'd found out just how incredibly _frustrating_ it could be not to be able to smoke when he wanted to. _Maybe I should quit..._ he thought. He'd started smoking to relax, but having to go without like this was definitely not a relaxing experience. Ed shook his head and took another puff. He'd worry about that later. Perhaps he'd quit when he got back to Central...

Ed glanced around and frowned when he saw another train on one of the different tracks with soldiers filing out of it. He scanned the line and found three more trains with soldiers unloading or milling about. _Strange..._ he thought, until he remembered the fuhrer's orders about sending troops to each part of the country.

_So,_ he thought, taking a drag and pulling the cigarette out of his mouth to blow out the smoke. _They're just arriving here._ He didn't think he needed to worry about anything, but it was good information to have.

Realizing he'd smoked the cigarette down to the filter, Ed flicked it away with a finger and pulled out another one. He didn't generally have two at a time, but he'd gone a whole fucking long time without one.

Putting the cigarette in his mouth, Ed lit it, then watched Sig exit the train and look around as if searching for someone. He raised a hand to show where he was and the big man looked at him, then beyond him. Ed's forehead crinkled in confusion and he was about to call out to the man when he heard someone speak behind him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ed's body stiffened. In all his frustration over not being able to smoke on the train and the soldiers, he hadn't thought that perhaps Izumi would come to meet her husband at the station.

Slowly, Ed turned and looked up into his former teacher's scowling face. For a moment, they just stared at each other, then the woman reached over and plucked the cigarette from Ed's mouth, dropped it on the ground, and crushed it beneath her sandal.

He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when her scowl deepened.

Maybe he'd quit now...

* * *

Bartholomew Kagegkuski quickly passed the rows of tents as he made his way to the council meeting he was to attend shortly. Looking to the right, he saw a group of women; washing clothes, hanging clothes on a drying line, and mending or sewing clothes. Older children were helping with the chores, and younger children were running around, laughing, and playing.

He frowned and shook his head. He didn't like women and children traveling with the army. The women contributed much by doing the laundry and the cooking, but he still worried. The little children caused him even more worry, but there was nothing to be done about it. Many of the men refused to leave their families behind, preferring to risk their death by war rather than death by poverty and starvation.

He supposed he could understand them, but he didn't like the idea of women and children being in harm's way. But, besides the danger aspect, it also brought more mouths to feed. The women earned their share, and so did many of the older children, but the little ones... They didn't do anything to contribute to their cause, and if rations were cut short, it was the little ones who would die first.

Bartholomew sighed. No matter how much he disliked the situation, there really wasn't anything he could do about it either. He needed the men more than he didn't want the children there.

His eyes darted to the left and he stopped walking. In the shadow between two tents was a darkly clad woman with her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Bartholomew looked around quickly before changing direction to her. As soon as he was near her, he said, "What are you doing here?" Normally she only came to speak with him at night.

She smiled languidly. "You're on your way to meet with the council." It wasn't a question. He nodded. The council was partially made up of generals, some of whom were from the original organization, some leaders from various towns they had convinced to join their cause, and some were men who were well known by the people or the soldiers. The third group was an especially important addition to the council because they had a better idea of what the people wanted than the town leaders or the generals.

"I want you to propose taking over East City," she said calmly, as if she were suggesting they all just take a nice long stroll in the park.

"What!" he hissed. "Are you insane? We have a fairly sizable force and the backing we have from most of the East is substantial, but... East City... Dammit woman! Their main eastern force is stationed in East City, not to mention the state alchemists they have there. We have alchemists, but they're not nearly as skilled."

"I think you give your alchemists too little credit. You've done a good job attracting talented alchemists to your cause."

He shook his head. "I still don't think it's a risk we should take. Fuhrer Bradley hasn't sent a big force at us yet, but if we take over East City..."

"Don't worry about the fuhrer," she said, cutting him off. "He won't be sending anything sizable against you for a while. If you follow my plan, East City will be yours long before he sends a large force against you, and by the time that happens you'll be able to keep the city."

He frowned in thought and searched her face. She hadn't led him astray yet... Finally he nodded. "Tell me your plan."

* * *

Ed trudged down the road, carrying his suitcase with one hand and holding his black trench coat in the other. He'd forgotten how fucking _hot_ it was in the South during summer...

"Ed! Is that you?"

He looked up and saw one of Izumi and Sig's workers, Mason, walking toward them with a grin on his face. Ed nodded and when Mason reached out his hand, Ed growled, "Pat my head and die."

The man grinned and said, "Wasn't going to. You've grown a couple of inches!" This was said with a few hard pats on his back.

"Of course!" he seethed indignantly. "What'd you think, that I'd stay short forever?"

"You just might if you keep smoking," Izumi growled. Ed made an exasperated sound. There was no way he was going to hear the end of this...

Mason shook his head, and said, "So how old are you now?"

"Seventeen," he answered defensively. "But my birthday is next week..."(1) He trailed off. Until he'd said it, he'd completely forgotten about it...

"Oh, really? We should have some sort of a party. How long are you staying?"

Ed glanced at Izumi, who was folding her arms and glaring at him. "Err… well, I'm not sure…" Not long if he had his way. He didn't need a lecture every time he wanted a smoke. He could just go back to Central and get that from Roy... "Probably just a couple of days. I have other responsibilities to attend to..." He hoped they didn't ask what those were, since it had just come out without him thinking.

"Hm, well, stay long enough for us to have a party at least," Mason said with a grin, then glanced at Sig. "You want me to take that knife back to the shop?" When Sig shook his head, the other man nodded, then started away with a small wave.

Izumi looked up at her husband and murmured, "You can go. I'll be fine." He hesitated for a moment, then followed after his employee. Ed watched them go for a moment before Izumi spoke. "I hope you've kept up on your training."

He cringed inside a little. Except for that one little sparring match with Roy, which could hardly be called that, he really hadn't done much since leaving Rizembool. He'd been so depressed for a while and then he'd been so busy researching and, well, fucking...

She grunted as if the guilt was painted across his face, and walked toward the front door of the house. Sighing, Ed followed her, knowing full well that he was going to pay for his neglect...

He watched as she let herself into the house, then reluctantly followed after her and shut the door behind him. Ed breathed out slowly, grateful for the cool interior of the house after the heat of the day. He followed Izumi to the back of the house and was about to ask if he could put his stuff away when she pointed to the back door.

"Just set your stuff on the back porch. I think you could use a sparring match."

"Well, I'd kind of hoped to rest for a bit," he explained with a hopeful grin. "I mean, I've been traveling all this time and..."

"Outside!" she barked.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered immediately, thinking that at least he'd get a break once she whooped his ass, which he was soooo sure she was going to do. That's just what Izumi did when you did something she wasn't happy about...

Opening the door, Ed let himself out onto the back porch and stopped when he saw a young, blond boy practicing. Dropping his suitcase and coat off to the side, Ed turned and looked at Izumi who had followed him out.

"What's _he_ doing here?" He didn't even know that Izumi knew the Tringham brothers...

"It's a long story. Suffice it to say that I've decided to take him in as a student for a short amount of time." She turned her head and barked in that commanding way she had, "Fletcher!" The boy stopped what he was doing and turned toward her, then looked at Ed in surprise before running over to meet them.

"Ed... what are you doing here?" the boy asked. By his tone, Ed wasn't sure if Fletcher was happy to see him or not.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," he replied, then added, looking around, "Where's Russell?" Where Fletcher was, his annoying older brother was sure to be near.

The boy glanced nervously at Izumi and said, looking back at Ed, "He went to Rizembool..."

Ed blinked. "To Rizembool? But... _why_?"

Fletcher opened his mouth to speak, but Izumi cut him off. "Edward is in need of some sparring, and you need someone to spar with. Now get out there."

"Yes, ma'am," Fletcher said immediately, but Ed hesitated. This was _Fletcher_ after all... How good of a spar partner could he be...?

He was about to voice those concerns when Izumi scowled at him and said, "Or perhaps you'd rather spar with me?"

"No, that's alright," Ed said quickly. He was sure he'd get his chance soon enough, best to warm up with the kid first.

* * *

Al grinned as he watched Winry try to follow his instructions before he pulled her arm in and moved her fist slightly. "Like that," he instructed. "Now punch." She did so and he laughed, shaking his head. "Don't _swing_. Punch. Like this." He took a stance and punched forward, striking at the air.

She watched his demonstration before trying to copy him. It was very sloppy, but it wasn't bad either. He thought that if she spent a good amount of time training, she could get rather proficient. She looked at him, then scowled before folding her arms and giving him a stubborn look.

"What?" he asked at the sudden change in her attitude.

"You're laughing at me!"

He was about to protest when he realized that he really had been laughing at her. "Well, okay, I was, but not because you looked bad or anything."

"Yeah right," she growled. "I don't see why I need to learn how to fight like you, Al. If I'm in trouble, I'll just smack someone with a wrench."

That brought another laugh from him. Shaking his head, he said, "You're not always going to have a wrench on hand. I'm not saying you have to learn how to fight like me, but I'd just feel better if you knew a few self defense moves."

"You worry _way_ too much, Alphonse," Winry murmured, trying the move again. Al watched her fumble with the move, and thought fondly of when he and Ed had begun training together. Those really had been good times, despite his brother's desperate drive to bring their mom back.

He missed those days.

He missed Ed.

It was funny how you really didn't appreciate something until it was gone. True, his brother was frustratingly stubborn sometimes, but he had a lot of good points too. Correcting Winry's stance, Al stepped back to let her continue practicing.

Perhaps after he and Winry were married, he'd go try to find Ed. Really try. He had a feeling his brother was in Central, or at least he had been when he'd spoken to Colonel Mustang. Al still felt a little irritated that the colonel would lie to him like that, but perhaps he'd had a good reason...

Or perhaps he'd done it simply because Ed was under his command. From what he could tell of the man, Roy Mustang was fiercely protective over those in his core group. That's probably why they were so loyal to him. Well, all but Ed. Al couldn't count the times those two had gotten into arguments and Ed had come back complaining about the man.

Of course, if the colonel was covering for Ed because he was his subordinate, then that meant that his brother was still in the military... With all the talk Ed had done about leaving the military, Al was surprised he hadn't already filed his resignation papers.

Well, Al would deal with all of that when the time came. He could go now, but... besides the fact that he was engaged, Al still couldn't help feeling a little unsure about how Winry felt about his brother. It had been a little obvious that she favored him in the past, but what about now?

He shook his head before explaining to Winry again about not swinging her arm, then stepped back. He knew it was stupid, but he was a little afraid of losing her to Ed. He didn't know exactly why his brother had been so upset all the time before, but he still had a suspicion that it had to do with how much time he'd been spending with Winry. Maybe Ed had been jealous because he liked her and was mad because Al seemed to be taking her away from him. He supposed he'd be mad too...

"What are you thinking about?" Winry asked, wiping her forehead.

He gave her a small smile. "Oh, nothing," he answered. After they were married, he'd find Ed...

"I should probably get back to work now, Al," Winry said turning toward the house.

Nodding, Al fell into step beside her. "Well, until you've really got it, you probably shouldn't go anywhere without me, just in case."

Scowling, Winry said, "I'm not a glass doll, Al. I can take care of myself. I wouldn't mind your company if you wanted to go places with me, but I don't need a guard." Al glanced at her, then decided to let the subject drop for now. Winry was stubborn, and she probably didn't see that she was in danger, but Al did and he was going to be sure to protect her.

* * *

Ed blocked, then punched before moving aside and dodging Fletcher's attack. Sparring with the Tringham boy wasn't exactly challenging, but it was a good warm-up. Ed could definitely tell that Fletcher had been trained by Izumi. The boy was much better than he expected him to be, but still he wasn't even close to his own skill.

Ed's mind drifted as he worked with Fletcher. It was good to have someone decent to spar with. Roy really sucked... Ed smiled a little in amusement at the thought. Mustang _sucking_ was something he definitely missed... He laughed at the dirty play on words and dodged when Fletcher directed a particularly hard kick in Ed's direction.

The boy had a scowl on his face and Ed thought that perhaps the boy believed he was being laughed at. Smoothing his features, Ed concentrated on what he was doing for a moment before his thoughts again turned to Roy.

After all this time away, Ed still hadn't decided what he wanted to do. Sometimes he wondered if Mustang was just using him for sex, but whenever he got on that line of thought he realized that if that were so, then things would probably be different. Ed could just as easily have stayed at the dorms and there would be less of a chance of them being found out.

Ed backed up a few steps and turned quickly when Fletcher nearly broke through his guard. Frowning at the boy's smirk, Ed tried to keep his mind on the match, but again his thoughts drifted away.

Ed was sure that the colonel did care about him, and Ed cared about him too. He wasn't sure if he wanted to use the word _love_... it just seemed so... sappy. But he did have strong feelings for the other man.

Everything appeared fine, except for the fact that Mustang didn't seem to trust him with anything important. It was so frustrating. Ed wanted to be part of whatever was going on. He wanted to be able to protect Roy, but he couldn't do that when he was left in the dark.

Ed blocked and made a half-hearted attempt at attacking. Then there was what Hawkeye said. It had really hit a sore spot with him. Mustang did have problems, more than he ever would have thought before he'd become intimate with the man, but did it really matter? Ed could live with a few problems... Even the colonel's drinking problem wasn't... that bad... not really... Ed frowned at the thought. So Mustang had been a bit rough with him a few times while drunk...

He could handle it.

Really, it was no big deal...

* * *

Roy leafed through the documents, then handed the heavy folder back to the private. "I need something more recent," he said and watched as the young man scampered off to the back of the records office. Shaking his head, Roy turned to say something to Hawkeye when the door to the office opened and Colonel Henry Douglas walked into the room. Closing his mouth, Roy turned to the older man and folded his arms.

It was no secret that Colonel Douglas didn't like him much, but Roy was fine with that. He didn't like Douglas either. Of course, there were many people who didn't like Roy because of how fast he'd ascended the ranks. When the white-haired man noticed him, he scowled and said, "Well, I didn't know that you ever came down from your _grand_ _pedestal_ to do something as menial as coming to the records office."

Roy fought the urge to roll his eyes; a bad habit he'd picked up from his missing lover, and said blandly, "I'm surprised that you could actually find the records office at your age."

Douglas glared at him as he walked up to the counter, pushed up his glasses with a finger, and looked around, probably for the private who worked in this office. Roy smirked. They both knew Roy would probably come up for promotion before Douglas, and he was sure it irked the older man to no end.

The private came back in the room and said to Roy, "It will be just a few minutes, sir. Private Willington is looking for them right now." When Roy nodded, the young man turned to Colonel Douglas and said, "Can I help you, sir?"

Irritably, the older man flopped a folder on the counter and growled, "This information you gave me is worthless. I need you to get me the police files on the Homeless case."

The young private looked a bit stricken and said nervously, "But sir... Those files are classified and only meant for..."

"I don't care who those files are meant for! I'm a colonel in the military and I take precedence over some worthless police officers!"

"Y..yes...sir…" the young private stuttered and rushed off.

Roy glanced at Hawkeye who returned his glace with a bland one of her own, then looked at Douglas. "Don't tell me you're trying to solve the Homeless case. I thought they closed that."

The older man glared at him and said, "The civil police are idiots. We military police know how to solve cases, and I want to see to see that case solved."

_You mean you want to put a nice little star on your record, _Roy thought, but said nothing along those lines. He'd done the same thing before; the Barry the Chopper case being the most well known of those. Despite it being Ed who had solved the case, Roy had gotten notice about it since he was Ed's commanding officer.

"You don't really believe someone was going around kidnapping random wanderers and homeless people, do you?" Roy asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Douglas growled.

Roy shrugged. "Well, think about it. These people are drifters; they go from place to place. Who's to say they didn't just wander off somewhere else. Maybe if there were dead bodies, that would be something, but there is no evidence that points to anything malicious. Besides, the supposed disappearances stopped months ago."

Douglas pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth as if to say something, when the young private came back with a stack of folders. "Here you are, sir..."

Snatching the folders from the young man, Douglas stalked away from the counter, all the while glaring at Roy, then stopped and growled in a low voice, "If I were you, I wouldn't be such a cocky little bastard. You never know when someone might get tired of it."

Roy narrowed his eyes a little. "Is that supposed to be some sort of threat, colonel?"

Douglas turned his gaze to Hawkeye before looking back at Roy. "Just an observation, colonel..." he said, then stalked out the door. Roy glanced at the lieutenant who was staring flatly at the door. He knew she hated dealing with the man. So did he, but it had to be done. For now at least. For now they would deal with the man, but eventually...

* * *

Izumi shifted where she was sitting as she watched the two boys punch and block, then dodge and kick. She tried not to think about the pain in her stomach and chest and tried to concentrate on what was happening before her. She could tell Ed was out of practice, but not too much so. He'd been in the hospital all that time; but then he and Al had practiced everyday, so she'd been told, until Ed had left Rizembool. That had been enough time for him to recuperate from the hospital, but what had he been doing these last couple of months? Izumi wanted to beat it out of him, but she had a feeling that might not work very well. Instead she waited and watched.

Folding her arms, Izumi frowned at Ed's sloppy guard and his poor attempts to attack. This wasn't from lack of practice. It was obvious that he had something on his mind, but he should know better than to dwell on it while he practiced. Most likely, he didn't think too much of Fletcher as an opponent.

Well, it seems that there was a lesson to be taught here.

She waited for the inevitable, and when it came she shook her head. Fletcher may not be as skilled as Edward was, but if your opponent isn't paying attention it really doesn't matter how skilled they are. The younger boy stepped back, looking pleased with himself for getting in a hit. She shook her head again. It seemed that another lesson was about to be made.

"What's the matter, Ed? Not used to sparring with someone shorter than you?" Fletcher taunted, and Izumi smirked. Oh yes, it seemed that Fletcher was going to get a _very_ good lesson.

Ed's eyes opened in shock, then he glared. "You know, I think being around Russell hasn't done you any good." Izumi nodded. _That_ was something she could agree with, though for a different reason than what Ed was meaning. Ed took a stance and growled, "Come on!"

Well, at least he was paying attention now...

Ed focused on Fletcher and suddenly the boy wasn't looking as confident. Taking a stance of his own, Izumi watched as this new part of the sparring match ended in less than five seconds. Fletcher groaned from where he was laying on the ground and Ed stood over him, scowling. The older of the two opened his mouth to say something, but Izumi called out from where she was sitting, "To me, now!"

Ed looked up, then glanced down, giving the younger boy a small and harmless 'kick' as he stepped over him to her. She held back a smile. That was something he and Al had done all the time when she was training them. Fletcher got up more slowly and walked over to join Ed.

"Sit," she said, pointing at the ground. She didn't want to have to look up at them from where she was sitting on the porch step. They sat and she said, "Now, tell me what you learned from this match."

Ed wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his black button-up shirt, then pressed his lips together and looked down at his black trousers in thought before he started picking at the grass by his right knee. Fletcher glanced at Ed before screwing up his face and looking up. His eyes scanned first to the right, then to the left, then back to the right as he thought.

After about five minutes, Ed said quietly, "I suppose... what I learned was that I shouldn't slack off because of how I perceive someone. I need to concentrate on what I'm doing, but that doesn't just apply to fighting; it also is for life as well. I need to take in what is going on around me and not let myself be distracted by other things... Sometimes what is happening now is more important than things that have happened. I can't change those things, but I can have an impact on the future..."

He trailed off, and his eyes glanced away. He'd answered her question and more so. There was definitely something going on with him, but now wasn't the time. She glanced at Fletcher and the boy squirmed under her gaze.

"Um... well..." He blushed and glanced at Ed before looking back at her. "I guess I learned not to call Ed short..."

Instead of laughing out loud like she wanted to, Izumi gave him a tight lipped smile. "And?"

"Well... I guess I learned not to taunt people when they are better fighters." He stopped and when she simply looked at him, he said, "And I learned not to be too confident in myself. Things aren't always what they seem to be, and I should always be aware of my limits and abilities."

She nodded. "That's right." Standing up, she said, "The two of you need to shower, and then come help me fix dinner."

"Yes, teacher," Fletcher said and jumped to his feet. Ed was slower at getting up and instead of starting for the door, he reached over and pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket. He held it between his fingers, but didn't light it.

"I'll be there in a couple of minutes..." he murmured.

Her fingers twitched to relieve him of that one as well, but the only thing it would accomplish would be to push him away. Fletcher looked at Ed, opened his mouth as if to say something, looked at Izumi, then closed his mouth before scampering into the house. Pressing her lips together, Izumi said, "I would appreciate it if you didn't smoke in the house."

"I wouldn't dream of it..." Ed said quietly, and she realized he hadn't lit up yet because of her. Not because she didn't like him smoking, but because of her declining health. She didn't like others to think of her as frail in anyway, but that's what she was becoming.

Pushing that thought out of her mind, Izumi said, "I hope you've remembered how to fight, because I think you could use more challenge later this evening." Not waiting for his response, Izumi walked into the house. She would continue to live her life as long as she could, no matter the pain.

* * *

1- They never give an exact date as to when Ed's birthday is and it seems like it's warm outside in the series when he turns sixteen (though it seems cold out when he turns twelve) so I decided to put his birthday in July. Recently I read an article on Wikipedia that says he was born October 11, 1899, but since they don't have any sources as to where they got their information, I'm going to disregard that. It seems plausible that it could be in October, but for this story's purposes, I'm going to take some artistic license. I've also decided to not have Ed and Al be _exactly _one year apart. It seems more plausible to have Al's birthday a month or two away from Ed's, and the anime also never even mentions Al's birthday, so...


	32. Memory

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**Memory**

**-**

Roy frowned as the silence between himself and Doctor Booth grew. There was a clock somewhere that was ticking away the seconds and it was becoming rather annoying. Finally, Doctor Booth said, "I appreciate you taking the time to come here."

"Of course..." Roy murmured and waited.

The doctor picked up a pen and tapped it against his desk for a moment, before leaning forward. "Since we both have other things to do, I'm going to try making this short. As I'm sure you're aware by now, Mr. Fuery has retrograde amnesia. This means that he is unable to remember things before his trauma."

Doctor Booth set the pen down. "This form of amnesia is actually quite rare. It is more normal for people to experience anterograde amnesia, this being that they have a difficult time remembering things that happen after the trauma. It is possible that Mr. Fuery's memory will return to him, but there are no guarantees. There are no treatments for this type of thing. You can only wait and hope. Sometimes if a person with amnesia is exposed to things that they are familiar with, this might bring back some memories; but again, there is no guarantee."

The doctor cleared his throat and sat back in his chair before folding his arms. "This is not to say that Mr. Fuery will not experience symptoms of anterograde amnesia. From what I've observed since he woke, Mr. Fuery does seem to have some difficulty remembering things between the time he woke and now."

"Can't we just hit him over the head again?" Roy asked, half joking, half serious.

To this, the doctor simply glared at him. "Really, Colonel... That is simply a myth. You cannot retrieve memories in such a way." He paused, then said, "I also believe some of this is emotional amnesia, meaning that it was the event itself, the trauma of having it happen, that caused the memory loss. Really, we just don't know for sure. The brain is such a complicated thing."

Again there was silence, then Roy grunted. "So... I assume you have more to say."

The doctor nodded. "I've already told you before that I don't recommend Mr. Fuery returning to work for the military in his former occupation, but it seems to me that you're not going to take that advice."

Roy nodded.

Doctor Booth sighed. "Well, as I said, sometimes familiar things can help bring back memory, so perhaps it will help, but I don't know how much he'll be able to do. You'll need to retrain him and there is no guarantee he'll remember what you tell him."

The man looked at his watch, then back to Roy. "Amnesia patents often feel overwhelmed and embarrassed because they can't remember things that they know they should. I would recommend easing him back into his job. You all know him, but he doesn't know you. It might be good if people remember that he is, in essence, meeting them for the first time."

"I'll let them know," Roy said, feeling more than ready to leave.

"You should also know that when memories are recovered, it is the older ones that come first and then the more recent ones. However, sometimes, most times actually, memories of how the memories are lost don't return." There was another moment of silence, then the doctor stood and walked around his desk. Roy took this as a cue that their meeting was over and stood as well. Doctor Booth rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a couple of pamphlets, then walked to Roy.

"These will explain a little more. I hope you'll call me if there are any problems or if you have any concerns." Roy nodded and relieved the man of the pamphlets. As he started to turn away, Doctor Booth said, "There's also one on the Korsakoff Syndrome..."

Roy turned back. "The what?"

Doctor Booth took a few steps forward so that he was close and said, "The Korsakoff Syndrome. It is a form of memory loss caused by chronic alcoholism... I just thought you might find it... interesting."

Roy pressed his lips together and said tightly, "What does that have to do with my master sergeant?"

The older man sighed and shook his head. "People like you generally don't take hints, so I'll put it to you plainly. Each time I've been around you I can smell alcohol on your breath. I think you should be aware of at least one of the dangers of drinking so much."

Anger rushed through him and he hissed, "I do _not_ have a drinking problem. Just keep your damn opinions to yourself."

Instead of getting offended, Doctor Booth merely looked sad. "No... Of course you don't..."

Roy scowled, and, turning on his heal, stalked out of the room.

* * *

Fletcher padded quietly out of his room and to the kitchen to get himself a drink of water. The kitchen was dark and when he stubbed his toe, he sucked in a hissing breath before bending down and gently touching his foot. Whimpering quietly, he stood back up and started waving his hands around as he inched forward, feeling for the cupboard that held the glasses.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand pressed against his mouth. In surprise, he yelled, but it was muffled by the hand.

"Shhhh!" came a sound from behind him. He felt warm breath against his ear and his nose wrinkled a little when the faint smell of alcohol and tobacco hit his senses. Quiet now, Fletcher felt himself be released and he turned quickly to see Ed's form in the darkness.

"What are you doing?" Fletcher whispered, embarrassed at having been so surprised.

"Couldn't sleep, so I came down here. I saw you and thought maybe you couldn't sleep either, but I didn't want to startle you and have you wake everyone up."

"Well... You still startled me..." Fletcher grumbled accusingly as he grabbed a glass and turned to fill it with water.

"Sorry, I..." Ed trailed off as the sound of coughing from Izumi and Sig's room rang through the house. The two were quiet for a moment, then Ed whispered, "Let's go out back."

Fletcher nodded and followed Ed out the door. The last thing he wanted to do was wake the woman. He worried about her more and more as he continued to stay with her. As he walked outside, the porch light came on and he glanced over to see Ed walking away from the switch before sitting down on the steps.

Fletcher let his eyes move over the other alchemist. Ed really had grown a few inches since he'd seen him last; though Fletcher had an idea that the older alchemist would never get very tall. Perhaps another inch, _maybe_ two, but that was most likely it. Both of Fletcher's parents had been tall, and Russell had been taller than most boys his age. Recently, Fletcher had noticed that he'd started getting taller as well and he had a feeling that he would probably surpass Ed in height in the not too distant future.

Fletcher sat down on one of the steps and continued staring. Ed was wearing a t-shirt that was much too big for him and a pair of sweats that had been cut off near his ankles. The sweats were also too big for him, but they seemed to be pulled tight by drawstrings, one of which was dangling below the bottom of the shirt.

Ed glanced at him, then took a drink of something and Fletcher thought that perhaps he had grabbed the drink from the counter before coming outside. He frowned and said, "I don't think teacher would be very happy to know you were drinking."

Ed shrugged and took another sip. "She won't know. I bought this stuff in Rush Valley, so it's not even hers."

"Still..." Fletcher muttered and took a sip of his water. They sat there in silence for a while before Ed pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. "When did you start smoking and drinking?" Fletcher asked, not liking this new development in his old acquaintance.

"I don't remember exactly..." Ed murmured, staring at the sky.

Fletcher glanced up at the moon, full and glassy in the sky, then back to Ed. "Oh... Well, it's not really very good for you..."

"Yeah, yeah..." Ed muttered. "Actually, I think I'm going to quit smoking when I go back to Central."

"Why not just quit now?" Fletcher asked while rubbing at his eyes.

"Well, because... It's just not a good time. I mean... I don't know. I guess I have too much going on right now to want to add something else, you know?" Ed took another drag off his dwindling cigarette before taking a small sip of his drink. "There's something I have to take care of in Central before I quit. Every time I think about it I get all worked up, so this helps calm me down."

Fletcher scratched idly at his ear and said, "But there are always things going on, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I just want to wait. I _could_ quit now, I can quit whenever I want, I just don't want to."

"If you say so..." Fletcher murmured and yawned.

"So, tell me why Russell went to Rizembool," Ed said as he crushed the cigarette against the palm of his automail hand and laid it next to him on the porch.

"Oh... um..." he stuttered. Over dinner, Izumi had asked Ed if he was still in the military and when he'd said yes, she'd asked him what he thought about The People's Government. To this, Ed had merely shrugged and said that they were a rebel army and the military would probably overtake them. Despite him not seeming very interested in the subject, Izumi had given Fletcher a very pointed look, one that clearly said to not tell Ed about his involvement with the rebellion if he knew what was best for him.

Fletcher didn't know if Ed would really turn them in or not, but he supposed it was best to be safe. "Well, teacher told us about Al getting his body back and he wanted to go visit," he said. Not a lie—exactly—just not the whole truth.

"Hm... but not you?" Ed asked. "I mean, you and Al seem to be better friends than him and Russell."

"Teacher said she would train me," Fletcher said simply.

"Ah, I see. Well, as long as she's up to it, I suppose," Ed murmured.

Fletcher stared down and picked at his toe. "Do you think... Do you think that she's going to get better?" It was a question he didn't dare ask her. He could see how hard she worked at pretending that she was fine, but he also saw when she winced or sagged when she thought he wasn't looking.

Ed gave him a sympathetic look and whispered, "No... I'm sorry."

Fletcher swallowed. "Do you think she's going to die?"

"Does that make you sad?" Ed asked.

"Of course!" Fletcher cried and slapped a hand over his mouth. He glanced at the house and waited for a minute to see if he had woken anyone. When nothing happened he dropped his hand and said more quietly, "Of course... wouldn't you be sad?"

Ed sighed and murmured, "All is one and one is all..." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Even though we're only a small part of the world, and the world will keep moving if we're gone, I suppose that doesn't mean we can't mourn and grieve when a part of our world is taken from us." He paused, then said quietly, "Yes, I would... will... be sad.

Fletcher nodded slowly as he digested what Ed had said. "I guess I'll just try to make the best of the time that I have left."

To that, Ed simply nodded and took another sip of his drink. "Maybe that's all anyone can do..."

Fletcher frowned as Ed seemed to lose himself to his thoughts, then looked at Ed's glass and thought that even though Ed was sipping at it, the liquid level wasn't really changing.

"So... What are you drinking?" he asked curiously.

The corners of Ed's lips turned up into a small smile and he said quietly, "Applejack."

"Oh... Is it good?"

Ed glanced at him and gave him a rueful look. "No."

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you drinking it?" _Or maybe you're not..._ he thought, thinking again about how the amount of liquid in the glass seemed to stay the same.

For a moment, Ed didn't say anything, then he whispered, "Because, it reminds me of something... someone..."

Fletcher waited, but when nothing else came he sighed and stood up. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to go back to bed." Ed nodded, then looked out over the back yard, seemingly deep in thought. With a shrug, Fletcher let himself back into the house and closed the door.

* * *

Winry stared up at the ceiling and sighed. She'd gone to bed early because she'd been so tired, but now she was awake and it was the middle of the night... Try as she might, Winry couldn't seem to get back to sleep. Sitting up, she rubbed at her eyes before standing and walking over to the window. She gazed up at the full moon. It was large and luminous and it seemed as if she could almost touch it if she reached out her hand.

She glanced down at the grass at the back of the house and blinked in surprise when she saw Alphonse lying on his back in the grass. Smiling, she turned her gaze to the thin ring on her hand. It was simple, but perfect for her. Anything elaborate would probably get in the way of her work.

With a last glance out the window, Winry hurried out of her room and down to the back door. She opened it as quietly as she could and stepped out onto the back porch. As she made her way down to the grass, Winry slowed and then stopped. She watched her betrothed lift his hand up as if to grab a hold of the moon.

With a small smile, Winry walked over to him and said quietly, "What are you doing?"

He tilted his head back and gazed at her as she walked beside him and sat down on the grass.

"Thinking..." he whispered and looked back up to the moon.

"What are you thinking about?"

He smiled and lowered his hand to the ground. "You sure you want to know?"

She frowned. It was the answer he always gave when he thought it would be too complicated for her to understand. Of course, he was usually right, but he was looking at the _moon!_ How complicated could it be?

"Try me," she responded.

He shrugged and again lifted his hand to point up at the moon. "When I was a kid, I was fascinated by the moon and the stars; probably just as much as I was with alchemy. The only difference was that there were hard facts about alchemy, while there were only wild theories about..." He waved his hand to indicate the moon and the stars.

She nodded. Nothing too complicated yet.

"Well, anyway, I've come up with several theories over the past few years, and by the way, brother thinks I'm a totally loony, but..." He stopped and glanced at her. When she said nothing, he continued. "What if what keeps us here on the ground is the same thing that keeps the moon with us?" (1)

Winry frowned. "What do you mean, what keeps us here?"

Al clenched his hand and brought it down before sitting up. He turned and looked at her with the bright, glazed look that he generally got when he became worked up about something... well... nerdy...

"Some sort of force has to keep us sitting here on the grass right, right? Something as to make things fall down instead of up, right?"

"Well... yeah... but, the moon isn't _always_ with us. Sometimes it's gone..."

She trailed off as he shook his head. "I think that it's always there. But... err... look." He grabbed her hands and balled them into fists. "Put your fists up and leave them." When she did, he moved them away from each other, and said, "This is the sun, okay? And let's say this would be the earth." He took his hand, made a fist and awkwardly began circling it around one of her fists. "This is the moon, right?"

Winry gave him a bland look. "You don't really believe that do you...?"

"Yes! It only makes sense because... look! If the moon is over here on this side..." He moved his hand on the side of her fist that was away from her 'sun' hand. "Then the moon would look like it was gone right?"

"Uh..." She was beginning to feel a little confused by his jumping around with his words.

"Because it's the _sun_ that makes the moon shine!"

Winry dropped her hands and shook her head. "I think Ed is right... Sorry, Al, but I think you should stick to alchemy, not these strange theories that can never be proven."

He chuckled and lay back on his back. "I'm sure someday we'll find out."

"Perhaps, but you have some strange ideas. I mean... isn't it the _sun_ that circles around the earth? Why would the earth go around the sun? And if the earth really did go around the sun, then why would the moon not go around the sun too?"

He grinned. "I have lots of theories, but I think they'd bore you." She opened her mouth to protest. Winry didn't want him to think that she'd find him boring. Before she could say anything he shook his finger at her. "Don't say it. I know it's true, but that's okay. Brother thinks I spend too much time thinking about nonsense... But... You know..."

She watched as his excitement faded and he frowned thoughtfully. "I spent too many lonely nights staring up at the sky after... well... you know... it's not like I could sleep... Sometimes I imagined that I could find a way to travel to the moon and see if some of my theories were right."

Winry scooted close to him and touched his arm. It all sounded a bit crazy to her, but then, Ed and Al had always been full of crazy ideas. "I don't know if there will ever be a way to travel to the moon..." she whispered.

"I know... but if there was a way, I'd want to..."

She smiled down at him. "Maybe I could build you a car that would fly to the moon."

At that he laughed. "A car that would go to the moon, huh? Well, if you ever figure out how to do it, let me know."

Winry smiled and hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I wonder..." she murmured.

"What?"

"If things had been different somehow... maybe you would have been able to pursue that..."

"Maybe," he murmured before reaching up and touching her face. "With the moon behind you like that, you really do look like an angel..."

That brought a small laugh from her and she rolled her eyes. "Al..."

He pushed himself up onto one knee and wrapped his hand behind her head and pulled her closer. "Maybe if I'm kissed by an angel my dreams will come true..."

Winry let herself be guided forward and closed her eyes as her lips pressed against his. They stayed like that for several moments, then she felt Al pull away and she opened her eyes. Sitting up, Al inched closer and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, pressing his hand against her back.

He stared deeply down into her eyes for a moment, nervousness radiating from him, then he leaned down and kissed her again. She closed her eyes once more, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his tongue press against her lips and she parted her lips to grant him entrance.

As he kissed her deeply, she felt his other hand slide slowly up her side, over the smooth fabric of her nightgown. His hand stopped just below her breast and for a moment she wondered how far he would take this. He'd kissed her before, but he'd never touched her like this.

Winry didn't want him to stop. She craved his touch; craved _him_. She moved one of her hands up to his head and combed her fingers through his hair. His hair wasn't exactly thick, but it wasn't thin either, and it was slightly damp from where he'd been laying on the grass.

As she timidly began kissing him back, Winry felt his hand begin to move up again and this time he let the tips of his fingers touch the bottom of her breasts. When she let out a small moan, he slid his hand up more and touched her nipples through the fabric.

Suddenly she felt as though she wasn't getting enough air and pulled back from the kiss. She breathed in sharply, and opened her eyes to see Al looking at her in concern.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Was it too much, too soon?"

She shook her head. It wasn't too much, but then again it was. She'd never been touched like this. She had dreamt about it, but... Despite the fact that Alphonse held a concerned look on his face, she noticed that he hadn't moved either of his hands, nor had she let go of him.

"Al..." she whispered, not sure if she should tell him to stop or not.

"I think it worked..." he said softly.

"What?"

He smiled and wrapped both of his arms around her, and holding her close. "Kissing an angel really does make your dreams come true..."

Winry rested her chin on his shoulder and held him tight. Blinking the sudden, happy tears from her eyes, Winry decided that although his 'angel' lines were corny, perhaps it worked for her in her own way. Perhaps Al could be her angel, and if so... "I suppose you're right..." she whispered, snuggling deep in his arms. "I suppose you're right."

* * *

Riza tugged slightly at the tie she was wearing and lowered her hat a bit more over her face. She'd finished her assignment and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep, but she still had more to do. Glancing around, she decided she hadn't been followed and turned left on the next corner. She quickly walked down the sidewalk until she reached her destination, then slowed. Glancing around again, Riza leaned back against a lamp post and looked across the street at the nice ground level apartments.

"Hey," came a voice and she instantly had her gun out and pointed at the newcomer's face. Jean Havoc raised his hands, a lighter in one, a pack of smokes in the other, and gave her a sheepish grin.

Riza lowered her gun slowly, then thrust it back into her holster. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, her heart still racing a little at being surprised.

He gave her a half smile before lowering his hands. Smacking the pack of smokes against his other palm, Havoc raised one slightly out of the pack and snatched it between his lips, pulling it out. He slipped the pack in his jacket and lit the cigarette before nodding across the street. "Same thing you are."

She gave him an unsettled look before glancing to where he had indicated. Riza sighed softly and said, "Is he actually in there?"

He nodded. "Yeah, finally went home about an hour ago. I know he's been doing extra work lately, but in the last few weeks..." Havoc shook his head. "He's overdoing it."

Riza pressed her lips together. She felt frustration rush through her, but if her commanding officer wanted to stay late and work until he died, there was really no way she could stop him.

"I know he wants that promotion, but..."

Riza glanced at Havoc as he trailed off, and nodded at his unspoken words. Sometimes she wondered if the colonel really appreciated the reality of the danger he was in, or realized that the risk he was taking just might be too much and could backfire at any moment.

"Why do you think he's been working so much?" he asked absently around his cigarette, then looked at her. "The _real_ reason."

She let her breath out slowly and shrugged her shoulders, trying to get more comfortable in the three piece suit. The real reason? These past few months the real reason had been the promotion, but these past few weeks...

Riza had a sneaking suspicion that Colonel Mustang had been working so much to keep his mind off of his missing lover. Roy Mustang tended to be a man of extremes at times. He drank excessively; when he was really motivated, he worked excessively; during the war and after, he'd had sex excessively...

Oh, she was sure he'd thought that no one had noticed when he slipped away, and probably no one did. No one... but her. She had been determined to look after him. As the war neared and reached its climax, his mental state had deteriorated rapidly, though he'd done a semi-decent job of keeping up a sane front. So she had followed him when he'd snuck away, and watched as, time after time, he paid prostitutes, both male and female—though mostly male—for their services. There were always prostitutes near the camps... The government encouraged them to be there to help 'take the stress off the soldiers.'

Riza sighed. After the war, she'd seen him date woman after woman publicly, only to know that in secret he was still active with male lovers as well. His sex life obviously wasn't any of her business, but she still worried that he seemed to be using sex as a crutch, the same way he used alcohol. Over time, the desperate sex seemed to slow as he began to focus more heavily on his career.

Then there had been Edward Elric...

Riza rubbed her tired eyes and glanced over to where Havoc was lighting up another cigarette. Few people knew Roy Mustang well enough to recognize the look that he got in his eyes when he saw or spoke of Ed. Riza knew, and she had a feeling Maes Hughes had known, but anyone else...

She didn't think the colonel's obsession with the boy had been completely sexual in the beginning, but somewhere along the way it had definitely become evident to her that he thought about it.

He'd never acted on it; no, he wouldn't get involved with someone underage, but now... Covering her mouth, she yawned and tried to keep her eyes open. Now, Edward was an adult, legally at least. Riza worried about him. She didn't want the boy to get hurt, and of course there were the repercussions the two of them would face from the military if they got caught. It was so risky, and at first she had been angry that the colonel would risk everything on some wild fling, but the more she watched, the more she wondered if she was wrong.

Maybe it wasn't just some fling.

Riza glanced from side to side down the empty street. If it wasn't a fling, then it was even more worrisome in a way because Roy just didn't have stable relationships... He was too messed up. He could hide his problems when casually dating as long as he didn't get too drunk, but...

She folded her arms and glanced tiredly down at the sidewalk. Maybe she was wrong about it all. Maybe they did love—or at least care deeply—for each other and this was what they both needed, but she just didn't know and Roy wouldn't talk to her about it. He wanted to deny the fact that she could possibly know anything about his problems; he wanted to deny that anyone would be able to figure it all out. He was living life too far on the edge and she was afraid that, sooner or later, someone was going to come and push him off.

"Go home." She blinked and looked up to where Havoc was looking at her in concern. "Go home; I'll watch the rest of the night. You've been working too hard too."

She hesitated, not wanting to leave, but at the same time desperately needing sleep. "Well, if you're sure..."

He smiled at her with a soft look and said, "I'm sure."

Riza yawned again and thought about protesting, but her body was already taking him up on the offer. With a nod, she started home, letting her worries keep her company on the way.

* * *

Russell stared at the moon, waiting silently for it to move past the trees. When it did, he quietly got out of his bedroll and quickly packed up what few things he owned. Glancing often at Urayami to make sure the other boy was still asleep, he slung his bag on his back and quietly started off.

"Where do you think you're going?" Urayami asked from behind him.

Russell sighed and was about to turn around when he heard a woman's voice say, "I think he's decided to take off without you..." He blinked at the new voice and nervously looked around, but didn't see anyone.

"Can I eat him...?" came another whisper, and this time Russell's heart jumped in his chest. Spinning quickly, he looked behind him in time to see Urayami standing up.

"What's going on?" Russell asked, trying to stay brave, but feeling rather cowardly.

"What's going on is that you were going to leave me..." Urayami said with a smirk and began walking toward him. "And we can't have that. I'm not done with you yet."

"I'm hungry..." came a whisper from the trees and Urayami frowned.

"You can't eat him yet, so shut up!" Urayami yelled. With that said, the other teen glanced at him and said, "I still have more questions... You see, we intend to make the Philosopher's Stone, and you are going to help us."

Russell shook his head and backed away. "I won't make it for you..."

Urayami laughed and said in amusement, "Of course _you_ won't, not completely at least. Only _alchemists_ can truly make the stone. You're going to be the juicy worm on the hook for the alchemists who have the ability to complete it."

Russell cocked his head cautiously and said slowly, "What do you mean...?" He trailed off as Urayami's body began to change into that of...

"What the hell..." Russell said nervously and stepped back. The other teen had changed himself to look like a tall teenager with blond hair covering one of his eyes... In essence, he'd changed into...

With a grin, Urayami stepped forward and said, "I've been observing you and asking you questions all this time we've been traveling together. I _know_ you... I know you better than you think." The other boy reached up and touched Russell's cheek. "I watched you and your little brother travel together as well... the two of you certainly have a _close_ relationship, don't you?"

Russell's eyes widened as he realized what was being referred to and tried to strike out at Urayami, but the other teen was too fast and a swift kick to his ribs brought Russell crouching on the ground.

Urayami knelt down and tipped Russell's head up. "Your brother is quite the skilled alchemist, isn't he? I think he'll be even more useful once that woman has trained him more."

Russell's eyes widened and he yelled, "Stay away from my brother!" Another savage kick to his stomach, then to his side, caused him to lie moaning on the ground.

"I didn't say you could speak. For now, you'll get your wish. I think the former tin can needs a visit much more, don't you think?"

"Go to hell," Russell spat, and suddenly Urayami was grabbing his hair and pulling him close.

"I'm going to get all kinds of information out of you," the teen whispered. "And when I'm done, you're going to wish you'd never been born."

* * *

1. I'm making the assumption here that many of the same things that our world knows of physics are not all known there. I don't think physics are really ever mentioned anyway. Whether I'm right or wrong, this is how I'm going to put it for this story.


	33. Death

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**Death**

**-**

Ed sighed and sat heavily on the grassy hill overlooking the large lake that sat just below Dublith's town proper. In the distance he could see the small deserted island that Al and he had lived alone on for a time when they'd first begged Izumi to teach them, and suddenly he felt a pang of sadness in his heart. What was Al doing right now? Was he still in Rizembool? Ed looked down and absently picked at the wild grass. He didn't know... He felt so guilty for not contacting his brother; but, in his own way, Ed thought that this was the best thing he could do for Al.

His brother was a good person and he deserved happiness. Ed, on the other hand, was not, and deserved whatever punishment the world saw fit to throw down on him. It was depressing, thinking that way, but in his heart, he believed it was true.

With a small groan, Ed laid back and stared up at the light blue sky. His whole body ached and it felt good to just lie there, but the heat made even doing nothing uncomfortable.

Izumi had decided that morning was a good time for him to spar with her. He supposed he should have expected it, but he'd been up most of the night, thoughts of Roy heavy on his mind. They'd sparred for a good hour, and at the end Ed was deeply regretting how neglectful he'd been in keeping his body conditioned.

In a way, he'd been lucky. A few years ago, Izumi would have dealt him much harder blows, but in another way, it was sad. She wasn't being easy on him; she just didn't have the energy to beat the shit out of him as thoroughly as before.

She was sick.

Dying.

Izumi might not want to admit it, might want to try to hide it, but it was the truth.

Ed lay an arm over his eyes as if that would help take the stinging away that he felt there. He didn't want her to die; he wanted her to live... But he was an adult; he should be able to handle this kind of thing. 'All is one and one is all', that's what Izumi had taught him and that's what he'd told Fletcher last night, but...

But to truly believe such a thing when it was someone close to you... He squeezed his eyes shut. It was so hard. Ed sniffled and wiped his eyes. She'd been like a second mother to Al and him, and he couldn't bear to let yet another mother go, but it was unavoidable. He couldn't stop what was happening any more than she could. His only consolation was that he knew... he knew she was dying. With his mother it had been so sudden...

He couldn't prevent this, but at least he knew...

Ed sighed and suddenly felt a pang in his heart as his thoughts turned to Roy. Roy was in danger, but he wouldn't allow Ed to help him and possibly protect him. What was done to Kain Fuery could have been avoided; he believed that with everything that was in him. He also believed that he could protect Roy, if only he'd allow it.

_Stupid... stubborn... bastard..._ Ed thought, feeling anger well up inside of him and mix with the pain. He didn't want to feel all these confusing emotions. It was so depressing... almost like when he'd left Rizembool, only not as bad. Somehow, Roy had been able to help him purge some of the anger he'd had from... from what he'd done to Al, and to Winry, but...

But.

There was still _that thing_ hanging over his head. The guilt of choosing to get Al's body back at the cost of...

"Here you are."

Ed moved his arm and stared up at the dark-haired woman who was standing over him. Izumi folded her arms under her breasts and stared down blandly at him. Instead of answering her, he simply sat up and stared out over the water again.

Grunting, Izumi stepped forward before sitting down beside him. Ed wasn't sure what he expected her to do, but since she simply sat and gazed calmly out over the water, he let his thoughts wander back to Roy.

* * *

Izumi glanced at Ed from the corner of her eye and watched him for a moment. He really had grown since she'd seen him last, and not just in height. Edward had taken on a more thoughtful and mature air than he'd had before. This was not to say that he didn't still have his childish moments, but for the most part he really had matured. But then, he was almost eighteen, it would only make sense that this would happen.

She let her gaze move over his clothes—black slacks and a white, button-up shirt. The top two buttons were undone and the collar was open wide so that she could see where the automail attached to his chest. He was missing the black trench coat from the day before, given the heat of the day, and she was glad for it. Military trench coats were made a specific way, and were almost as recognizable as the uniforms they were meant to be worn over.

Looking away, Izumi scowled at the water. The military wasn't a place for children, but then, Ed wasn't a child anymore. Despite that, she still hated the fact that Ed had joined. She supposed she could understand why he had done it, but that reason was gone. Why was he still in the military? It didn't make sense.

Of course, Ed getting Alphonse's body back didn't make sense either, or perhaps it did. She was still in the dark about how Ed had done it, but she had every intention of finding out.

"Tell me how you did it," she said, jumping right in. She didn't need to explain. He knew what she meant. When no answer came, she glanced at him to see that he'd pulled his knees up to his chest and was hugging them close. Pressing her lips together, she decided to wait. He would tell her. He always told her what she wanted to know.

After a long while, it could have been five or ten minutes for all Izumi knew, Ed said quietly, "Do you..." His voice cracked and he stopped for a moment, then continued. "Do you ever hide anything from Sig?"

She glanced at him and saw him staring back at her with a troubled look in his eyes. Izumi frowned. It wasn't what she'd been expecting. With a sigh, she looked out over the water, avoiding his gaze.

"Yes," she whispered quietly. Izumi had kept many things from Sig, but she'd had her reasons, it had been for his own good...

"Why?"

She turned and glanced at him. "Why?" she said, repeating the question.

He nodded and looked away from her. "Why would you hide things from him? He's your husband, right? I mean, you should share everything because well..." He trailed off and Izumi saw that his cheeks took on a slight pinkish hue.

Sighing, Izumi turned her head and let her gaze rest on the small island in the distance. As far as she knew, Ed had no experience with relationships, so he couldn't possibly understand how things worked between her and her husband, but she didn't think it mattered. She didn't believe it was actually her and Sig that he was wondering about.

It could be that he was thinking about him and Al, as she knew he hadn't told his brother how he was whole. It could also be that Ed was trying to make a point to her. This wouldn't surprise her in the least. Given how intelligent Ed was, he probably picked up some of her teaching methods.

"It depends," she began. "My reasons weren't always the same."

* * *

"Sometimes I've kept things from him because I was worried about him. I didn't want him to get hurt," Izumi said, and Ed looked down at the grass. That sounded like something Roy would do, keep stuff from him to protect him. But he didn't need protection! Ed was sure he could handle anything that was dished out.

"Then sometimes," Izumi continued. "I kept things from him because I was too ashamed to tell him." She fell silent at that leaving Ed to his own thoughts.

Wasn't that why he hadn't told Al about how he'd gotten his body back? And even then, couldn't that be combined with wanting to protect his brother? After all, Ed was sure Al would be very upset if he knew what he'd done. But what was done, was done. They couldn't go back and undo it. Telling him would only cause him unneeded pain.

His mind flitted back to Mustang. Could Roy also be ashamed of what he was doing? Ed didn't think so. That just didn't sound like Roy's style. No, his commanding officer either wanted to protect him, or he just didn't think Ed was reliable enough. The first thought was a bit sweet, but it was also incredibly frustrating. The second just made him mad.

Ed sighed. He couldn't go on like this forever. He would have to return to Central eventually and when he did, he'd have to face Mustang. Ed also couldn't stay away from his brother forever. He missed Al, and he wanted to make amends, but he was so scared to face him; terrified of his brother finding out what he'd done and hating him for it.

Ed picked at the grass. The thought of dealing with Roy was no less comfortable. Instead of feeling scared, Ed felt more confusion and frustration than anything else. Should he stay with Roy? Was Mustang keeping him out of the loop his way of telling Ed his purpose was for sex only?

He shook his head. It was a stupid thought. Of course Roy didn't just want him for sex. But even though he knew it, Ed couldn't help letting that worry creep into his mind. No, Ed had thought about the last couple months a lot, and he'd come to the conclusion that Roy must care for him on some level. Perhaps Roy didn't _love_ him, but that was fine with Ed. He wasn't sure if he loved Roy either. After all, what was _love_ anyway?

He loved his mother, even though she was gone, and he loved Al. But Roy... Ed pulled up a clump of grass and let it flutter down from his hand to the ground. He knew he had strong feelings for Roy, but when did strong feelings change into love? Or did they ever?

He didn't know.

He glanced at Izumi, then away. What would she say? Probably that he was being a fool. She'd probably say that he was being a fool and a coward for not facing the problem head on. Ed frowned. Maybe she was right. Perhaps he _was_ being a coward and a fool... He pressed his lips together and felt his heartbeat quicken at the thought that he should go back to Central.

What he needed to do was talk to Roy and find out the reason he was keeping him out of what was going on. He supposed he could do that over the phone, but Ed just didn't feel right about it. No, this was something he needed to do in person.

* * *

Izumi watched silently as Ed pulled on the grass, immersed in his thoughts. Waiting was hard sometimes. Right now she wanted to beat the truth from him, but she knew she couldn't.

Suddenly, Ed stood up and looked down at her. "I'm going back to Central," he said, a determined note in his voice.

When he started walking away, Izumi said in a commanding voice, "Wait!"

He stopped and for a moment just stood there, before turning a little and giving her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry... I can't tell you..." She frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he said softly, "Please understand."

Izumi pressed her lips together. There had been times when Sig had questioned her, wanting to know what she was planning or her reasoning for something, but she had kept it to herself because she'd thought it was best.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Ed was a man now and he was no longer her student. She couldn't force him to tell her, no matter how much she wanted to. Opening her eyes, she nodded.

* * *

Fletcher looked up as the door was flung open and Ed hurried into the house, then glanced over at Mason who was sitting on a chair across from him.

"Ed!" the man said cheerfully. "We were just talking about what kind of party we should have for your birthday."

Ed stopped and looked at them for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm leaving for Central tonight," he said, then gave them an apologetic look. "Sorry..."

Fletcher frowned and glanced at Mason who was shaking his head. "Didn't you hear?"

Fletcher nodded even though Mason wasn't talking to him, then looked at Ed. He'd heard and he was sure Ed wasn't going to like it.

"What?" Ed asked, then looked back as Izumi entered the house and shut the door.

"The military just announced it. No one can leave Dublith unless they go through a bunch of paperwork and stuff, and even then they might not let you get on the train if you don't meet all their requirements."

"That's not all," Izumi said, and held up a paper. "It seems the military is holding a mandatory meeting for all citizens tomorrow at noon." She scowled darkly. "I have a feeling the traveling issues are going to be the least of our problems."

Fletcher watched as Ed folded his arms and looked down in thought for a moment before glancing up. "I don't think I'll have any problems leaving Dublith."

"You think so?" Fletcher asked worriedly, glad that Russell had left when he had. He had a feeling that his brother would not have fared well with the military here.

Ed nodded confidently, and said, "I'm part of the military. I think I have the proper credentials."

* * *

Winry squeaked, then shook her hand in an effort to get the small sting from the needle out of her finger. With a slight whimper, she brought her hand in front of her face and saw a small dot of red bloom where she'd stuck herself.

Making a sound of exasperation, Winry got up, walked to the kitchen and rinsed the blood off before pressing a clean towel to it. After a minute, she removed the towel and, when she saw it had stopped bleeding, made her way back to her project.

She wasn't a great seamstress by any means, but she knew enough to make the small alterations that her mother's wedding dress needed to fit her. Sighing, she was about to sit back down when there was a knock at the door.

Wondering who it could be, Winry walked over and opened it. She blinked a moment at the bright sunlight, then her eyes rested on a tall young man. He had blond hair, and some of his bangs fell into one of his eyes, making her want to give him a hair cut. He was wearing brown slacks, suspenders and a white, long-sleeve button up shirt.

"May I help you?" she asked politely and frowned when his gaze moved up and down her body with a small smirk.

She felt irritation flash through her and was about to say something when he said, "My name is Russell Tringham. I'm looking for Alphonse Elric." He grinned widely and for some reason that she couldn't explain, Winry felt a shiver run down her spine.

* * *

Ed stared at his reflection in the mirror as he buttoned up his military jacket. As often as he'd worn the uniform since Roy had given it to him, he hadn't gotten used to seeing himself in it. It was as if it were someone else staring back at him.

Sighing, Ed brushed his hands over the blue fabric in an effort to smooth out any wrinkles. When he'd received the uniform, he'd felt as if he were finally part of Mustangs group, but right now it only served as another reminder that he was in the military, but not trusted enough to do anything truly important.

He scowled at the mirror with that thought. What was all of this for anyway? Why was he still in the military? Perhaps the best thing for him to do would be to just quit. If Mustang didn't trust him then what was the point? Ed wasn't even sure why he hadn't submitted his resignation papers when he'd gotten back to Central like he'd planned. Maybe it had been because he'd been so depressed. Continuing to work with the military had been something to keep his mind off of his worries.

Ed turned and closed the lid to the suitcase.

Mustang's... Roy's... suitcase...

"Roy..." Ed whispered, running his fingers over the heavy brown leather. The suitcase was nice, a whole hell of a lot nicer than the one Ed had, and it had been better taken care of. Of course, Ed would have to go to the man's house to give him back his suitcase... And then he'd need to get his stuff that he'd left there... Ed shook his head. Perhaps it had been a subconscious action on his part so that he'd need to go back to Roy's place.

_I'm such an idiot..._ Ed thought as he turned and sat down on the bed. He put his elbows on his knees and let his head rest in his hands. He wanted to be angry at Roy, but the only thing he could think of was how he was going to see him again. His heart beat in nervous apprehension at the prospect of being held in Roy's arms. He wanted it so badly that he could almost feel it.

Suddenly there was a small knock on his door. Looking up, Ed said, "Come in."

The door inched open and a moment later Fletcher's head popped through the opening. The boy's face had a cautious, worried look and he said hesitantly, "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Ed shook his head. "Don't be stupid."

Taking a deep breath, Fletcher let himself into the room and shut the door. He stood there for almost a minute as he studied Ed, then said, "I never thought I'd see you in one of those..."

Ed shrugged. He didn't feel the need to discuss the uniform and why he'd given in when Mustang said he was finally tall enough to wear one. When Fletcher got no real response from Ed, he looked down at the floor and mumbled, "Are you really leaving today?"

"That's right," Ed replied. "I have something to take care of in Central, and I want to be sure I'll be able to get out of Dublith without too much of a hassle. I think that the longer the military is here, the harder it will be to leave, even for military personnel."

"But... _why_? I don't understand. Why is the military _here_? Shouldn't they be in the East trying to win the war?" Fletcher whined, still looking at the floor.

Ed frowned. Figuring out military politics wasn't his strong suit. He was a man of science, and a man of action. Not that he _couldn't_ work out strategies if he wanted to, but he didn't like sitting around trying to plan things. It was this attitude that had gotten him into untold amounts of trouble during his life.

Roy and Al... they were the ones who understood these sorts of things. They were the planners, the ones who could calmly work people to their advantage. They didn't just run blindly into things, impulsively doing what they thought best at the moment. Ed admired them for that, but it also drove him crazy when he wanted to do something.

"I think they're here to make sure people don't go running off to join the rebellion," Ed said in answer to Fletcher's question. "I've heard the rebellion has been sending out runners to get people to join their cause." He shook his head.

"What if..." Fletcher began, then trailed off for a moment. "What if you knew someone who was part of the rebellion? Would you turn them in?"

Ed pressed his lips together. Most of what he knew about The People's Government was that it had been started by a group of terrorists who had no problem hurting people and destroying things, but he also knew they were trying to create a government for the people. It was actually rather confusing. Were they good guys or where they bad?

Ed hated ambiguity. He wanted things to be clear and well defined, but of course they weren't. They never were. He studied Fletcher's face for a moment, then said, "I don't know." He almost wanted to say he wouldn't just to spite the military, but it would be his duty as a military officer to turn them in. Would he do it, if it was someone he knew?

He thought of when Izumi had gone to get that homunculus, Wrath, from Southern Head Quarters. He'd sided with the military then, but it had mostly been because it was a _homunculus_ that she was trying to save. If it hadn't been, then most likely he would have taken her side. He wondered if it had been his siding with the military that had prompted her to refuse to teach them anymore.

"Why?" he asked. To this, Fletcher merely shrugged.

Ed pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "Well, I've got to go," he said as he stood and pulled the suitcase off the bed. He grabbed his overcoat and draped it over his arm. Looking at himself one last time, Ed started for the door, but stopped when Fletcher spoke again.

"Will you be going to Rizembool?"

Ed frowned and turned to look at him. There was no mistaking the fear in his voice. "Not right now, but I've been thinking about it." He really needed to make amends with Al, and he would... really he would...

When Fletcher didn't say anything else, Ed put a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then left the room. He made his way down the stairs and stopped when he saw Izumi standing in front of the door, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. His eyes quickly scanned the room to see Sig and Mason sitting at the table. Behind him, he heard footsteps on the stairs and made note of where Fletcher was as well.

"I'm leaving," he said in a neutral tone.

"I see that you really have become a dog," Izumi spat, looking him up and down.

He felt anger flash through him but he pushed it away. This could be the last time he saw her and he didn't want to leave on a bad note. Ed knew she was against the military and perhaps it made her even angrier that he was enlisted because he'd been her student.

"I'm sorry," Ed said. He looked down when he felt tears suddenly prick at his eyes. He was sorry. So very sorry... He wanted her to be proud of him in the same way he'd always wanted his mother to be proud of him, but that wasn't meant to be. He'd made so many choices that she didn't agree with that there was no way she would ever be proud of him. The best he could hope for was that they could part on good terms.

* * *

Izumi raised an eyebrow. "For what?" she asked. It infuriated her to see this boy—this young man—that she had cared for like a son, wearing that uniform.

"I'm sorry that I can't be what you want me to be," he said softly. "But I need to choose my own path now, teacher. Please... let me go."

She didn't want to. She wanted to make him stay here. But even if she did, the military was in Dublith now and, most likely, he'd just end up helping them in their dirty work here if he stayed. Didn't he see how he was being used by them? No, of course he didn't. But he was a man now...

"There is no need for you to call me 'teacher'. I stopped filling that role years ago."

For a moment there was silence from Ed, then he looked up, moisture in his eyes and whispered, "No. No, you've never stopped filling that role." He paused, and when he blinked a single tear escaped his eye and quickly dropped down his face to the floor. "And you never will."

The emotion threw her off and she looked away, determined not to give into her own feelings. "Idiot boy," she said gruffly. "Do whatever you want. You always do." When he said nothing, she looked back at him and saw a look of...what? Pain? Determination? She wasn't sure, but a moment later he dropped the coat and suitcase to the floor, stepped forward, and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I will never forget you!" he said fiercely. "Thank you for everything!" Before she could register what was happening, he stepped back, grabbed his stuff, and rushed past her.

When the door closed there was a moment of silence before Mason stood and motioned to Fletcher. They both left through the back door, leaving her alone with Sig. In the privacy of her home, with only her love near, she hung her head and let herself feel the pain. Tears pricked at her eyes and she didn't even try to stop them.

He knew.

He knew she was dying.

Did everyone know?

She felt strong arms encircle her and she leaned into the embrace. She loved Ed and Al like they were her own sons, and she only wanted the best for them. The military wasn't the best for Ed, but she couldn't make him give it up. She couldn't make him call his brother and she couldn't force him to tell her his secrets. His last words played over and over in her head, and this only made her want to cry more. It was as close to an 'I love you, mom' that she was ever going to get.

From Ed.

From Al.

From anyone.

* * *

Al sat down across from Russell and asked, "Where's Fletcher?"

Russell shrugged and said, "He decided to stay in Dublith with that woman. I guess she's going to train him or some such like that."

"Dublith?" Al asked in surprise. "Izumi? He's studying with Izumi?" When Russell nodded, Al shook his head and made a mental note to give her a call. He'd been meaning to let her know about the engagement. "I didn't even know you knew her."

"Well, it was sort of a fluke really, but we stayed with her for a bit before I decided to come visit you. I guess she liked Fletcher so much that she decided to teach him while I visited."

Al frowned a little, thinking it was a little odd. Izumi didn't take on students lightly, and Russell was almost always with Fletcher. They were pretty close, like him and Ed; or rather, like he and Ed _used_ to be...

"You must miss him," Al said sympathetically, thinking of Ed.

"Not really," Russell said and when Al raised an eyebrow, he quickly said, "I mean, I _do_ miss him, but I know he's doing something he wants to do and being well taken care of, so it's not as big of a deal."

_Okay..._ Al thought, thinking Russell was acting a little odd, but then this was Russell... And, of course, he hadn't seen the Tringham brothers in quite a long time, so perhaps the two brothers were not as close as they used to be.

"So... what brings you here?" Al asked after a moment.

"I wanted to give you the chance to be free, and to insure freedom for your children and grandchildren." Al frowned, realizing he'd heard this line before and not liking where it was going. Leaning forward, Russell said in a quiet, conspiratorial voice, "I'm talking about you being a part of history in the making."

* * *

"...and we could really use an alchemist of your caliber here."

Ed growled in frustration at Colonel Olsen's fifth attempt to keep him in Dublith. "I already told you, _sir,_" he said, putting an irritated emphasis on the honorific. "I'm supposed to go to Central."

"I can change those orders for you easily," the colonel said.

Ed frowned. Colonel Olsen (1) was an older, balding man, with enough fat on him to make him look 'jolly' but not enough to make him necessarily 'fat'. Ed had met him before and he was a rather easy going man. Normally Ed didn't mind talking to him, but right now he was about to strangle him. It was already late and Ed wanted to be on the fastest train to Central, _tonight_.

Grabbing the phone, Ed started to dial. "Okay, why don't you take this up with Colonel Mustang," Ed said and heard a ring in the receiver before Colonel Olsen pressed down on the phone base, ending the call.

"There's no need for that..." the man said nervously. Olsen had served in the Ishbal war, and like every other soldier that had taken part in that war when the State Alchemists had been called out, he had a certain amount of fear when it came to the Flame Alchemist. Sometimes that fear came with respect, but often it was just unadulterated fear.

Ed had asked some of the soldiers about this, but he hadn't found anyone willing to speak about it. He'd thought about asking Mustang, but... He wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Ed had taken part in a mock fight with the man, so he had an idea of what it was like to see Mustang in action, but he had a feeling Mustang had been holding back. It irritated him to this day.

To most people, Roy Mustang was just a flirtatious bootlicker who wanted to climb the ranks and thought too much of himself, but to Olsen...

"I'll get you on a train in three days," the man bargained. "I have a lot going on right now and..."

"Tonight," Ed said, cutting him off. "I need to go _tonight_—on the fastest train, on the quickest route."

Colonel Olsen considered this for a moment before saying, "I'll see what I can do..."

* * *

Roy shuffled through the documents on his desk, and grunted in triumph when he found the one he was looking for. It was late, and he was tired. What he really needed to do was go home and go to bed, but he couldn't. It was just too lonely there. He tried to ignore the loneliness by drinking himself to sleep, but it never seemed to work out the way he wanted and in the morning he still had to get up and see remnants of what Ed had left behind; random hair ties on the doorknobs, the toothbrush he'd forgotten to take with him, the towel he'd been using that was still hanging in the bathroom where Ed had left it last, and the coat...

Ed's long red coat in the bedroom...

Sometimes, Roy would walk to the bookshelf where it hung and touch it. He'd bring the fabric to his nose and breathe in deeply. Ed had stopped wearing the coat shortly after he'd started smoking so it had both the new and the old smell of Ed on it. He'd played with the idea of taking it down; maybe putting it away along with the rest of Ed's belongings, but he couldn't. To put them away would mean that he was recognizing that Ed wasn't coming back to live there. That wasn't something he could accept. Ed was just upset, but he was sure he'd come back and they'd talk it over. Roy was sure they'd be able to work things out...

No, he'd stay here at work. Soon enough he'd be able to rest, but for now there was work to be done.

"Sir?" He looked up to see Lieutenant Hawkeye standing at the door.

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"It's time..."

He looked at the clock and nodded. "Have a good night then," he said, but she didn't leave.

"Sir... I think you should go home tonight, I..."

"Lieutenant," he said, cutting her off. "We've already discussed this." He grabbed his pen and glanced down at the documents before looking back at her. "I have a job to do. We all have jobs to do."

"But, sir," she argued with a worried look on her face.

"But nothing."

"It's too risky for you to..."

"Goodnight, lieutenant," Roy interrupted and looked down at his work.

There was silence for a moment, then he heard her turn around and leave, closing the door softly behind her. He sighed and put the pen down. He knew it was risky, but everything was risk. The more risk you're willing to take, the more potential gain there was to be had. Roy had high stakes in this game and he was willing to risk a lot if he could win.

_But not Ed?_ Maes's voice asked in his mind.

At that, Roy stood up and walked to the window. It was dark outside. Most people were at home asleep, or with their families, or with their friends or... but not him. He was here listening to a dead man act as his conscious.

_No, not Ed,_ Roy thought and touched the window.

_Why not?_ Maes asked him back.

Roy rested his forehead against the glass and sighed. Why not Ed? Ed would be so valuable in his cause, and yet... since they'd started living together... since they'd started... Roy frowned. What did that matter? He'd fucked so many people and they didn't mean shit to him. He'd never been willing to protect anyone else like this before, so why Ed?

_He just can't be trusted,_ Roy lied to his dead friend.

_You care for him_, Maes's voice returned.

"Shut up," Roy whispered. He felt a tightness in his chest and a stinging in his eyes.

_You love him,_ Maes accused.

"I said, _shut up!_" Love? Ed? No way. He liked Ed, surely—found him attractive—and, yes, even cared for him in his own way, but _love_? No. Love brought all sorts of consequences he'd rather avoid. He'd loved Maes, but those feelings hadn't been returned. Even after his friend had gone on with his life and married Gracia, Roy had still loved him, though he'd tried to deny it. But death comes to us all sooner or later, and for Maes it had come sooner than it should have.

Roy had stood there at that grave, determined to be angry at his friend for passing him up in the ranks. He'd come to the funeral with the resolute decision that he would not cry.

But cry he did.

Everyone dies, and those you love are no exception. It's better not to love. Better to just have great sex, good booze, and ruthlessly get to the top. At least, that's what Roy tried to tell himself as he stood gazing out into the darkness. Instead he found himself staring out toward the general direction of the train station, wondering when Ed was going to return.

Suddenly the phone rang and as he turned toward it the window crashed in and a sharp pain stabbed at him. He pressed his hand against the wound and when he took it away, he saw a thick, red liquid covering his skin. Instead of continuing to turn toward the phone, which didn't ring more than once, he started to turn his body toward the window when another stab of pain hit him and he staggered back.

His feet tripped over his chair and he turned slightly as he fell, catching the side of his forehead on the desk. With a cry of pain, Roy rolled as he fell and cringed when his body hit the glass covered floor.

He moaned as the room began to tilt and spin in his vision. Blood from his head wound flowed freely down his face and into one of his eyes, and he could almost feel the life draining out of the other wounds in his body.

Roy brought a shaky hand up and wiped at his face, a vague memory about how much head wounds bleed running in his mind, then out again.

_What if I die here_? Roy wondered distantly. Of course his dreams of becoming Fuhrer would never be achieved, but that's not the regret that came to him. Instead, all he could think of was Ed. If he died, he would never see Ed again.

_Why would you care if you never saw him again?_ he heard Maes say.

Roy's eyes rested on his hand and focused blearily on the red there. It was red, just like Ed's coat. Everything was red... Everything was Ed... Tears came to his eyes. He didn't want to be without Ed; he didn't want to die without seeing Ed's face at least one more time.

_Maybe I do love him_, Roy thought. _But he doesn't love me. He can't love me._

_Why?_ Maes asked quietly.

_Because, I'm not a good person and because... if he loves me and if I die... he'll be sad. He can't be sad; I have to protect him..._ Roy thought hazily in the confusion of his mind.

Suddenly he heard something like a door bang in and moments later someone was kneeling in front of him. Through his blurry vision he saw someone with blond hair pulled back and he croaked, "Ed...?" Could it be that his wish was being granted?

"No, sir," came the frightened response. The person turned and said roughly, "Don't just stand there! The phone! Call the doctor!"

"Ed..." he whispered, not believing that this wasn't him. He reached up and touched the face. "I'm so sorry, Ed," he forced out.

"Don't talk, sir. Help is coming."

A tear escaped Ed's eye and Roy wiped it away with his thumb, leaving a streak of red from the blood that was on his hand. "Don't cry... You'll be better off without me, Ed..." he whispered. Ed was strong. He'd be able to carry on without him.

Ed let out a sob and said, "Sir, I'm not... I... I'm so sorry..."

"They're on their way," a deeper male voice said, but Roy ignored it. What he did notice was the smell of cigarette smoke in the air. This had to be Ed because of that damned habit he'd picked up...

His body felt heavy and suddenly he couldn't keep his hand up any longer. It dropped into Ed's lap, but he didn't really feel it. He didn't feel anything. The world was going dark, but at least he'd gotten to see Ed one last time.

_I lied_, he thought to Maes. As he stared up into Ed's crying face.

"I lied..." he said again, this time out loud. "I'm sorry; I should have told you before." It was hard to talk and darkness threatened to overtake him at any moment.

"No..." Ed's blurry figure sobbed and Roy vaguely noticed another hazy figure behind him.

Roy blinked again and again, trying to stay awake long enough to tell Ed the truth, to tell him what he hadn't even been able to admit to himself.

"I love you, Ed..." he whispered, then everything went black.

* * *

1 – Not an FMA character.


	34. Disarray

-

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Disarray **

**-  
**When the train came to a halt, Ed stood up, stretched, and grabbed his suitcase. He paused and looked down at it. Not _his_ suitcase... Roy's suitcase... It was Roy's suitcase and he'd be seeing him today... Ed rubbed his thumb over the handle and he thought he could almost feel it. Of course he couldn't. Even if he hadn't been wearing gloves, he was gripping it in his automail hand.

"Sir?"

Ed looked up to see a private watching him. The private, a tall, thin brunet in his early twenties, snapped a sharp salute when Ed glanced up at him. Ed rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, enough of that. What do you want?"

With the threat of Colonel Mustang being involved, Colonel Olsen had gotten Ed on a train within thirty minutes of their meeting. Not only that, but the train operators had instructions to get him to Central as quickly as possible. That meant the train went faster than normal, plus there were no stops. Besides the three privates sent to accompany him, Ed was the only passenger.

"Sir, we've stopped," the private said, stiffly bringing his hand out of the salute.

Ed shifted his grip on the suitcase, raised an eye brow, and gave the private a bland look. "You think?"

"Eh... I mean..." the brunet stammered, an embarrassed blush creeping into his cheeks. "We've arrived in Central." To this, Ed simply nodded. It wasn't the private's fault he was so cranky, and it really wouldn't be fair to take it out on him. "Would you like us to call you a car, sir?"

"No, I can walk," he said. It would give him a little more time to think before he had to face Roy. He slipped past the private to get off the train. At this time of the morning, Central Station wasn't very busy. A few people were sitting on benches, reading newspapers as they waited for their trains, and a few mothers hushed their children, but other than that...

No, of course... It suddenly hit him that it wasn't just the time of day that had resulted in such a sparse group of travelers, but the fact that people must not really have anywhere to go. The East was off-limits to civilians now with the rebellion going on there, and if what happened in Dublith was any indicator, it must be getting difficult to travel anywhere else as well.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Ed exited the station and started toward home. He frowned. Was it still home to him, or should he be finding somewhere else to live? It was Roy's apartment...

Ed stopped, set the suitcase down, and shrugged off his coat before draping it over one arm. It wasn't as hot in Central as it was in Dublith, and it was still early morning, but the weather was warm enough that he felt uncomfortable wearing both the military uniform and the heavy overcoat.

Pulling out a cigarette, Ed lit it, and started walking again. He tried to imagine what kind of reaction Mustang would have to his return. Would he be angry? He'd been gone a long time, and he hadn't called once. Maybe he'd still be upset from the fight they'd had...

Ed hurried across a street and turned left. Perhaps it would be presumptuous to act like he was coming back to live. Maybe he should just say he was coming by to pick up his stuff and drop Roy's suitcase off. At that, he grimaced, wondering if Roy would be upset that he'd taken the suitcase without asking.

At the corner, Ed flicked the cigarette away and turned right. His heart beat more quickly as he realized he was almost there. The moment was here and he wasn't ready at all. Maybe he should just apologize. Part of him just wanted to make it all better so they could go on how they were, but he wasn't sure if that would work either...

Ed slowed as he neared Roy's front door, then stopped in front of it. He stared at it and wondered if he should knock or just go in. After several minutes of internal debate, Ed decided to knock. He knocked numerous times, but after no answer tried the doorknob. It was locked. He frowned. Had Roy already gone to work? It was a little early even for him...

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Ed unlocked the door and let himself inside. He set his coat and suitcase down and glanced around before heading back to the bedroom. Roy was probably still in bed, Ed decided, but when he looked into the bedroom, there was no one there.

He frowned and tapped his fingers against his leg. Maybe Roy really had already gone into work... He walked into the room and sat down on the bed, letting his gaze fall on the nightstand. An almost empty bottle sat there and beside it was that damn picture Roy had talked him into posing for. He picked it up and stared at it with a small smirk. Roy had been pretty drunk that night, and he'd insisted he had to have a picture of Ed naked. Ed, on his part, refused to be photographed in the nude. They'd finally come to a compromise that Ed would wear one of Roy's work shirts, but it had still been embarrassing.

He set the picture down and lay back on the bed so that he was staring at the ceiling. Should he just wait here for Roy to get home? He didn't relish the thought of meeting up at the office, but Roy had a habit of working late and if he waited, then it could be tomorrow morning before he saw him.

With a sigh, Ed reached over and grabbed Roy's pillow. He held it close and breathed in deeply. He missed that smell... missed Roy. "I'm so pathetic..." he whispered to himself. He felt stupid, feeling this way, but he couldn't help it. Now that he was back he just wanted to be with Roy. He wanted to lie next to him and feel his warm body against his. He wanted to touch him and be touched. He wanted to talk to him, or even just be in the same room as him

Ed tightened his grip on the pillow and closed his eyes. He was exhausted from the trip and sleep was very attractive right now, but he wanted to see Roy and he didn't want to wait until tonight or tomorrow... Throwing the pillow aside, Ed stood up and rubbed at his eyes.

With a yawn, Ed headed toward the front door. So he might have to hide his feelings for Roy at headquarters, but at least he could see him. Ed let himself out and quickly started for the main military building in Central. He hadn't realized just how much he'd really missed his lover until that moment. So they had some things to work out. Ed supposed they could live with that, but he didn't want it to be over, and he didn't want to fight anymore. He'd wasted so much time worrying and wondering...

When he reached Central Headquarters, Ed walked down the sidewalk that went through the grass. There was shrubbery on each side of the walk and trees dotted the grounds. He slowed slightly when he saw Havoc sitting under one of the trees, staring in his direction with a cigarette in his mouth.

Ed waved and frowned when the tall man simply sat there, not responding to Ed's greeting at all, but he didn't give it much thought. Most likely the man had been dumped by yet another girlfriend. Sitting in a daze with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth was generally how Havoc dealt with things. Depending on the depth of the relationship, Havoc might be just fine later in the day or it could take all the way until tomorrow. Either way, Ed dismissed it.

He opened one of the large glass doors and let himself into the building. Crossing the wide foyer, Ed pushed the button on the elevator and waited impatiently. Just as the doors opened, two female soldiers walked up behind him and entered the elevator with him.

"I just can't believe something like that happened!" one of the women, a blonde corporal said.

The other, a dark-haired specialist nodded. "Oh, I know. It's just terrible. They're both just so shaken up about it too."

"Yeah, I saw him out there. I think I'd be the same way if I'd seen something like that," the first said.

"Well, I think he's taking it better than she is. I heard she is on sick leave. They say after the medical personnel took him away, she broke down and just sobbed for, like, ever."

"Wow... I mean... she just isn't the type," the blonde said in disbelief.

"I know..."

"So, do they know who did it?"

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "The military police have been all over this one. They're up there right now too. That Douglas is determined to solve this case." She paused as the doors opened and they walked out. "If you ask me, it's pretty strange, I mean, everyone knows they hated each..." Whatever else she was saying was blocked by the elevator doors closing.

Ed sighed. Women were so gossipy. He was glad Hawkeye wasn't like that. He wondered idly what they could be talking about. He'd met Colonel Douglas before and hadn't been too impressed with the man. In fact, it seemed that most people didn't like him. Mustang especially didn't get along with him...

The elevator opened again and he stepped out and started toward Mustang's office. After turning down a hallway to his left, he stopped suddenly when he saw three military police officers talking with Lieutenant Breda. The red-haired man was shaking his head and talking animatedly to one of the MPs.

_What's going on...?_ Ed thought in confusion, though his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. When Breda noticed Ed's presence, he beckoned to Ed and excused himself from the other three men.

"Ed..." Breda said, a heavy note of worry in his voice.

"What's going on?" Ed asked, trying to keep his voice under control, but failing miserably.

"Ed, let's go downstairs and talk..." the lieutenant said, grabbing a hold of Ed's arm and trying to steer Ed back the way he'd come, but Ed shook him off and started quickly for the open door to Mustang's office. Fear gripped his heart causing a suffocating sensation in his chest. He pushed aside the nagging feeling that something was wrong, that something just wasn't right. He told himself that there had to be a logical, and very normal, reason for the military police to be here. Maybe Roy had a meeting... yeah that had to be it... a meeting...

"I'm sorry, sir," one of the military police said, stepping in front of Ed. "Only those associated with the investigation are allowed on the scene."

"Ed, come with me," he heard Breda saying behind him, and he felt another tug on his arm.

He blinked at the man in front of him. A logical reason. Something perfectly normal. Nothing to do with the strange gossip from the two women... Without conscious thought, Ed pushed past the man. Roy was in there, he thought desperately. He was... the pompous man would be sitting at his desk like he always was and he'd have some smart quip about Ed not following orders...

When he felt himself constrained again, he turned to see both Breda and the MP holding onto him. Gritting his teeth together, Ed yanked his automail arm out of Breda's grip and as he pulled his flesh arm from the MP he pushed the man back. When he was free, Ed rushed to the doorway of Roy's office. What he saw made his blood turn to ice within him.

A group of MPs were looking at papers and comparing notes. A few were talking with Colonel Douglas about something and in the back of the office... In the back... the window was broken, but it had been covered by paper to keep the wind out. The area around Roy's desk was blocked off by police tape and the carpet under the window, by the desk… it was littered with shards of glass and soaked with blood.

_No..._ his mind cried and he blinked again trying to keep the blurriness that was suddenly coming to his eyes at bay. Ed shook his head. He didn't want to believe it—couldn't believe it. It wasn't real. It wasn't... He heard Douglas's voice asking him what he was doing there and to get out, but he couldn't concentrate on it.

"No..." he whispered and finally a tear escaped his eye, trickling slowly down his cheek.

"Ed..." Breda said gently and again he felt a hand on his arm. Panic and despair welled up within him. Roy wasn't dead! He was alive! Nothing could happen to him. He was... He was the Flame Alchemist!

"NO!" he screamed, and turned around to face the man. "What happened!? Where is he!?"

"Get him out of here!" he heard Douglas yelling.

At the same time, Breda said calmly, as if he were talking to a child, "Ed, let's go talk about this somewhere else, alright?"

"NO!" he shouted again, barely able to contain himself. "Where is he? Where is Roy?" _He'd not dead. He's not. He's fine._ Ed glanced at the blood. _That's just... That's just someone else's blood..._ But the more he tried to convince himself, the more he felt alarm and fear rise up inside of him because he wouldn't be trying to convince himself if he really didn't believe... At that thought, the world seemed to be swimming before him and spinning at the same time. He felt dizzy and thought he would throw up.

Hands grabbed him and he felt himself being pulled out of the office. He half growled, half sobbed, as he turned to see that he was being pulled out by three MPs and Breda. "Let me go!" he screamed and fought against them, but it was no use. When they had him out in the hallway, Douglas walked out and shut the door behind him.

"This is why children shouldn't be let into the military," the man said calmly.

"FUCK YOU!" Ed screamed and struggled against the men holding him. He felt angry at them. It was good to be angry. It was good not to feel the pain, because he just couldn't handle it. "Where is he?!"

"You are not privy to that information, Fullmetal."

He let out a scream of rage and felt hot tears flowing down his cheeks. "You mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch! Where is Roy? Is he okay? Tell me right _now_!"

"Edward..." Breda said in a warning tone. Ed glanced at him, then back to Douglas. "Let's go downstairs..." the man coaxed and signaled to the MPs, who let him go. With a sob of frustration, helplessness, and despair, Ed brushed past Breda and ran down the hallway toward the stairs.

He wasn't dead! He wasn't... He couldn't be...

Ed rushed down the stairs, through the foyer, and out of the military building. He looked around, but the world was a blur as he tried to figure out where he was and where he was going. Blindly choosing a direction, Ed ran, trying to escape a pain he hadn't felt since his mother died.

* * *

Heymans Breda watched Ed run off with a frown on his face, then turned to Colonel Douglas who said, "I want that little fuck to stay out of my way. This is _my_ case, and I won't have him sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong."

Heymans nodded. Edward Elric had a reputation for getting involved with things that had nothing to do with him, and had a potential for problems more than almost any other person he'd ever met.

Colonel Douglas was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm almost shocked he's so upset about this. My impression was that they didn't like each other." The colonel's voice held a suspicious note in it, and Heymans cringed inwardly. Douglas was a suspicious person by nature, but he was also very shrewd and observant which served him well in his position as a military police officer.

"Yeah, well, they've gotten along alight in the last few months. I think it's just the fact that it happened at all that bothered him. He's pretty sensitive to things like that," Heymans said. His frown deepened and he glanced once more the way Ed had gone.

It was true that the colonel and Ed had been getting along, but he'd attributed it to the fact that Ed was getting older and maturing, not to mention the fact that Mustang had been renting his couch out to the kid, but now...

Now, Heymans felt a little suspicious himself. Ed did seem a little more upset than he'd expected, and then there was the fact that he'd called the colonel by his first name... He knew that the colonel and Hawkeye had known each other for a long time, but even then, he'd only heard her call him by his given name a handful of times, and never while on duty.

Heymans might have just said that it was the shock that had prompted Ed to call the colonel by his first name, but that wouldn't make sense unless Ed was already calling him 'Roy'.

"It's very convenient," he heard Douglas say, and turned to look at him.

"Sir?"

"That Fullmetal would just happen to show up almost right after this happened."

"He's been away," Heymans said, thinking he knew where the colonel was going with this train of thought.

Douglas grunted. "We'll see. Be sure to keep an eye on him. I want him available for questioning later."

"Yes, sir," Heymans said and watched as the man went back into Mustang's office.

Heymans turned down the hall and started walking. Oh, yes... he'd keep an eye on Ed, but not because Douglas had told him to. It would be too easy to dismiss what he'd just witnessed, but he couldn't. With both Hawkeye and Havoc dealing with the shock of what had happened, he needed to keep things in line.

He turned the corner and saw Falman walking toward him. They both stopped walking and Heymans said, "I'm thinking about getting food at that one place that I like to go to, do you want to come?"

Falman nodded at the coded question about whether he'd found anything and wanted to meet to discuss it. "Actually, I'm a little busy today, perhaps another day?"

Now it was Heymans' turn to nod. It seemed Falman still hadn't found anything. "Maybe tomorrow, then?" he asked.

"It's possible."

Heymans paused for a moment as his thoughts turned back to Ed. Something wasn't right, and he had a feeling—not a good one either—that he might have an idea why Ed had reacted the way he had. He hoped he was wrong. If he was right, things could get complicated quickly if the wrong people found out...

"I just saw Ed," Heymans said after a minute. When Falman silently raised an eyebrow, Heymans said, "He just found out. Didn't take it too well either." Breda folded his arms and frowned deeply. If he was right about Ed, then getting the kid to do what he wanted could be tough. He waved a hand and starting walking away. With a deep sigh, he pushed the button to summon the elevator. He _really_ hoped he was wrong...

* * *

Ed threw himself onto the bed. After he'd left headquarters, he'd run as hard and as fast as he could. He hadn't originally intended on coming back to Roy's place; in fact, he hadn't even thought about where he was going, but he'd ended up there just the same, and he was glad that he had.

Grabbing Roy's pillow, Ed held it to his chest, buried his head into it and started to sob uncontrollably. His mind couldn't seem to understand that Roy really could be dead. It was all such a shock! Ed had believed he'd come home to some strangeness between him and Roy, and perhaps an argument, but...

Why did these things always seem to happen to him? Why couldn't he just be happy? Why didn't the stupid man just tell him what the hell was going on so Ed could protect him? Why? Why? Why? There were so many questions that filled his mind, and he had no answers to them.

After a while, he didn't know how long, Ed flung the pillow across the room, rolled onto his back, and laid an arm over his wet eyes. Small sobs fought their way out of his exhausted body.

Ed felt like such a child. Even after telling Fletcher all that shit about death being part of the circle, he couldn't manage to look at Roy's death so objectively. It was so close, so personal... The thought of never seeing Roy again created a physical pain in his chest that seemed to spread throughout his whole body. He wanted Roy to be there, to hold him, to kiss him, to say that everything would be fine...

With an effort, Ed got up, pulled off his military jacket and headed toward the closet. When he opened the door, he stared blankly at Roy's other 'everyday' military jacket, then glanced to where the man's dress uniform hung.

Again tears pricked at his eyes as he imagined Roy in each. With tears running silently down his cheeks, Ed hung his jacket up and pulled Roy's down before putting it on. It was much too large for him, but Ed didn't care.

Ed headed back to the bed and sat down heavily. In slow, weighty movements, he pulled off his boots before lying down on the bed, and curling up in the too-large jacket. He closed his eyes and imagined that it was Roy who was holding him. He imagined warm arms encircling him, and even thought he could feel warm breath on his neck. But no matter how good his imagination was, Ed knew in his heart that it wasn't Roy holding him. The only thing that held him now was loneliness; terrible and cold in its emptiness.

* * *

Heymans glanced down at the paper in his hand, then knocked on the door. This was the right place... After about a minute, he knocked again. After knocking four times, Heymans gave a heavy sigh. He could go away and come back another time, or he could just let himself inside.

He was sure that the colonel wouldn't appreciate him just coming into his apartment, but if Ed was there, then they needed to talk—and the sooner the better. Pressing his lips together, Heymans reached out and tried the door knob. It was unlocked. Feeling quite uncomfortable, both with letting himself into someone else's house as well as the impending conversation with Ed, Heymans shut the door behind him and called out, "Hello? Ed? You here?"

Heymans glanced down at his feet and saw a suitcase and a military trench coat. He glanced over at the couch and frowned. It didn't exactly look like a spot where someone was making their bed... Then again, Ed had been gone for a little over a month, and had just returned, so... He shook his head and started for the hallway. He'd hold judgment until he knew for sure. That just wasn't something you accused someone of lightly...

"Ed?" he called again, and glanced both ways down the hallway. One way led to a bathroom and it was dark in there, so he turned the other way and saw an open door. Hesitantly, he started for the door, and when he got there, Heymans glanced inside and let his breath out at what he saw.

Ed was lying on a large bed. He was dressed in his military pants, and had the colonel's military jacket wrapped around him. Heymans let out a frustrated and disappointed sigh. He had so hoped he was wrong...

Walking into the bedroom, he said quietly, "Ed?"

The teen moved slightly and muttered, "Go away..."

That was just what Heymans wanted to do; just go away and forget about everything, it would be the easiest thing. He wanted to, but he couldn't.

"We need to talk," Heymans said, and stopped when he got near the head of the bed. Glancing over to the nightstand, Heymans frowned deeply at the almost empty bottle of liquor and the very promiscuous picture of Ed in the colonel's work shirt.

Now it wasn't just his suspicions.

Now he had proof.

He didn't want to believe it. Why would the colonel have an affair with _Ed_, of all people? Ed was... well, he was a guy for one thing, and much too young for another. Hell, he was a fucking _child_! What was the colonel thinking?! Heymans couldn't even begin to guess. The man could have almost any woman he wanted, and he decides to screw around with Edward Elric.

Heymans ran his fingers through his short, red hair. This was so dangerous... Why would the colonel risk everything like this? If the wrong people found out...if _anyone_ found out... He had so many questions, but no answers. Closing his eyes, Heymans took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Ed, we've gotta talk," he repeated.

"I can't..." the teen whimpered quietly.

Heymans looked down at the boy and felt a flash of sympathy for him. Though Ed was legally an adult, he was still just a child compared to the rest of them. He wouldn't have the experiences and knowledge that the rest of them did, yet he was a state alchemist and he'd been involved in a sexual relationship with a man who should have known better.

Heymans wondered if it would be fair to chastise Ed at all for being in this relationship. For all he knew, the colonel could have coerced the kid into it... He frowned deeply. Ed was technically an adult now, but when did this start? Had it started when Ed was a minor? Could the colonel really be so depraved as to take a young teenager to his bed? He pushed that line of thought away for now because he had to. There were things that needed to be done. Ed and he had to talk. Ed was a state alchemist, and a major. Ed had responsibilities that needed to be fulfilled.

"Ed..."

"Go away!" Ed said forcefully and curled even more tightly into the large coat.

"You can't lie there forever," Heymans said mildly. When he got no response, he said, "You need to be more mature about this, Ed."

"Shut up!" the teen cried. "You just don't understand."

Heymans snorted and said derisively, "What exactly don't I understand, Ed?" Again there was no answer. "Wanna know what I _do_ understand? I understand that you're taking this much harder than I thought you would. I understand that you and the colonel have been living together. I understand that after you left, the colonel was almost always working. I understand that you're lying here on his bed, wrapped in his coat. And most of all, Ed," Heymans said, lowering his tone as if someone else was going to hear. "I understand that there's a picture on the colonel's nightstand of you in his work shirt that you might not want anyone else to see."

At these words Ed flinched and buried his head into the jacket. "I'm not going to make any accusations," Heymans said. "But I can tell you that it seems rather suspicious to me. I don't like it, but what you and the colonel do in your spare time is none of my business unless it affects my job. Right now it's affecting my job, so we need to talk."

"You just... you don't understand..." He heard Ed whisper. "It's not... I... we..."

"Look, Ed," Heymans interrupted. "I don't want to know. I _really_ don't want to know. I wish I didn't know. Guys and other guys together... eh, I really don't get it... I've never understood that sort of thing. Plus, you're just way too young for him... but, again, none of my business."

Heymans sighed. This really wasn't something he wanted to talk about... He itched to leave, to not think about it. He was pretty sure there was a better way to talk to the kid, but he didn't know how. Heymans was blunt and to the point most of the time which never went over well in delicate situations. "The problem is that you're the colonel's subordinate. If you don't want to cause more trouble for yourself and for the colonel, you need to be more... eh... low-key. You need to watch how you act. I think Douglas already suspects something isn't quite right."

"What does that matter if he's dead?" Ed moaned around a sob.

"It matters because it's your ass on the line as well as the colonel's, _and_ he may not be dead. The military hasn't released any information on him yet. They might just be keeping it under wraps for a while, but they'll have to release a statement sooner or later, so stop bellyaching about it." Heymans pressed his lips together, thinking that might be a bit too insensitive, but _damn_... this was just a bit too much... the kid needed to pull himself together.

Ed was silent for a moment before saying quietly, "But there was so much blood..."

Heymans nodded. "Yeah, but he was still alive when the medics took him away. You need to keep on as if he were still alive, because he just might be. I don't think he'd be happy to know that while he was gone, the military got whiff of that secret. Hell, he probably won't be too pleased that _I_ know, but there's nothing to be done about that."

"If he was alive, they would have already told us..." Ed whispered dully, and Heymans felt a flash of irritation. The kid was hardly listening to a word he was saying! He was too fixated on the fact that the colonel could be dead. Stepping forward, Heymans reached down, grabbed one of Ed's arms, and pulled him around so that Ed was lying on his back with his face toward him. Immediately, Ed glanced away, but Heymans was having none of that.

"Look at me!" Heymans said firmly. When Ed simply kept his gaze away, Heymans reached down and moved Ed's head forward again. "Look at me, dammit!" The teen's face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. Heymans again felt pity for the kid, but he couldn't let this alone. He wanted to, but he couldn't.

"What the hell kind of shit is this? I thought Edward Elric was the kind of person who continued to believe in things even when others said it was impossible," he said scornfully.

"I..." Ed began, but Heymans rode over him.

"You probably have every right to feel the way you do, and if life were fair, then you'd get to wallow in your misery all you wanted, but you can't. You have responsibilities, and I won't let you just ignore them because something bad has happened. That's the difference between adults and children. We all feel the pain, but adults must go on. We have responsibilities. Others rely on us. Sometimes you have to do things you really don't want to do, even when something like this happens."

A sob broke from Ed and tears trickled down his pale cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Ed..." Heymans said a little more gently. He let go of Ed's arm and watched him curl into the fetal position. "I'm sorry that this happened, and I'm sorry that I can't just let you alone, but we need you. There are things that need to be taken care of that only you can do. I would if I could, but I can't. I'm only a second lieutenant."

Heymans stopped and watched as Ed cried. It was difficult to know if Ed was crying because of what was being said to him, or because of what happened with the colonel, or both, or even for some other reason that he wasn't aware of. What he'd said was hard, but it was the truth.

With a heavy sigh, he sat on the bed next to the boy and awkwardly patted Ed's shoulder. Heymans wasn't the type of person who really liked to deal with 'feelings' and 'emotions'. It all made him terribly uncomfortable. But right now, he was the only one really 'available' to deal with this, and this too made him uneasy. Heymans was the type of man who liked to work from within. He liked to be on the sidelines, giving advice about tactical decisions and, in general, not being in the spot light.

"We're broken here, Ed..." Heymans said quietly. "The colonel is missing; Fuery will be released from the hospital soon, but he still doesn't remember shit; Hawkeye has shut herself up in her apartment and refuses to talk to anyone; Havoc... well, you've seen him, I'm sure..."

He shook his head. "Falman and I are trying to pick up the slack, but we just can't do it all. We're only two men, and we don't have the authority to do much of anything important... I've heard talk about putting someone in to fill the colonel's job, maybe temporarily, perhaps permanently... I don't know, but we can't let that happen. You understand why... there's just too many secrets that..."

"No!" Ed yelled suddenly, cutting Heymans off. "No, I don't understand! Roy wouldn't tell me _anything_! You guys know more than _me_! So, it doesn't matter that I'm a major, I don't know shit! Roy never trusted me with anything!"

Heymans laughed derisively. "You really think we know everything? Well, we don't. I know what I need to know to do my job. The colonel works on a need-to-know basis, Ed. If you don't need to know, then he doesn't tell you. It's safer that way for everyone." He shook his head. "Stop pitying yourself. It's not all about you."

"But... I... we..."

Heymans stood up and looked down at Ed. "I'm sorry. You have to grow up. You have to be a man." He paused, then said, "I know you don't know it all, and there are many things you don't understand. Even though you've been in the military all this time, you really don't understand how things work. You've never had to really deal with the politics and intrigue, but now you have to."

Heymans wanted to say more, but instead he kept quiet and watched Ed. The kid was silent for a long time, before he turned back onto his side and murmured, "I need some time to think..."

Heymans pressed his lips together, refraining from starting yet another speech. He'd said enough. Now it was time to see what kind of man Ed was going to be. "Alright," he murmured. "You think about it, but don't think too long." When he got no response, Heymans turned around, and left.

* * *

Ed lay on the bed for a long time after Breda left, thinking about what he'd said. Was he being childish? Wasn't it normal to grieve if someone died? Ed frowned. Breda didn't seem to think Roy was dead. Was it possible that he was right? Was he mourning over something that didn't need to be?

He glanced over to the nightstand and scowled at the picture there before picking it up and staring at it. Blood rushed to his cheeks, both at the memory of getting the picture taken, and at having someone else, other than Roy, see it. He wanted to be mad that Roy had just left it out like that, but he couldn't. The picture next to the bottle only served as a painful reminder that he had been missed...

Roy had missed him.

This knowledge made Ed feel horrible inside. Had he been selfish and insensitive all that time that he was gone by not keeping contact? Truthfully, he hadn't even thought about how Roy would feel about not being contacted. Ed had been too focused on being upset about not being let in on things; he'd been too worried about their relationship... He'd supposed that Roy might be mad that he didn't keep in contact because of work reasons or something. It hadn't even entered his mind that Roy would actually miss him...

Reaching over, Ed pulled open one of the nightstand drawers and put the picture away before lying back down on the bed. Breda's harsh words had stung, and Ed wished he could just forget them, but he knew that the man had been right.

Ed glanced over to one of the bookshelves and saw his red coat hanging where he'd left it before leaving Central. Pushing himself off the bed, Ed shrugged out of Mustang's jacket, and laid it on the bed before slowly walking to the bookshelf and pulling his coat down. Without thought, Ed put his arms through the sleeves and winced when the coat pinched him in places that were too tight. He hurriedly wiggled out of the coat and stared at it sadly.

Yes... Breda had been right. He was no longer a child. He was a man, and he needed to start acting like one. But it was hard... so hard... He didn't want to... Right now, all he wanted to do was lay there and feel sorry for himself.

His fingers tightened on the coat as he wondered what Roy would do in this situation. His first thought made him glance up at the bottle on the nightstand. Frowning, Ed walked over and picked the bottle up. This is what Roy would do, he realized. Roy would drown himself in liquor... but he would still move forward. Despite everything, Roy would move forward.

With a sigh, Ed tossed the red coat on the bed next to Roy's military jacket. Making his way out of the bedroom, Ed headed toward the bathroom. He flipped on the switch and stared at himself in the mirror. His face was pale, except on his nose and around his eyes which were red and splotchy from his crying, and his hair stuck out of his messy braid in all directions.

Looking down at the bottle, Ed sniffed at it, then dumped it out in the sink. Right now he thought he understood the strong pull of drinking his troubles away, but that wasn't him. He wasn't Roy Mustang. He was Edward Elric. Somehow, he had to go on. He didn't know if Roy really was alive or not, but if he could believe, then he could hold himself together; he could do what he needed to.

Ed quickly washed his face and redid his hair before returning to the bedroom to put his military jacket back on. Breda was right. He was a man, and he had to be responsible. For the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital all those months ago, Ed felt like he had a purpose, a goal.

Ed strode resolutely toward the front door. Roy wouldn't find him crying his head off like a little girl. No way. If...no, _when_...Roy came back, he'd see that Ed could be trusted. He'd see that Ed was dependable... He'd see... Ed blinked quickly, then roughly scrubbed at his eyes. That's right... Roy wasn't dead! He wasn't! And when he came back, Ed would be sure to give him a piece of his mind for leaving him with such a mess. With that thought in mind, Ed opened the door, let himself out, and shut it firmly behind him.

* * *

Ed walked hesitantly down the hallway toward Roy's office. There was no sign of the military police, but then, that had been this morning, and it was now late afternoon. He nervously tapped his fingers against his leg as he walked. He'd been so full of determination when he'd left the apartment, but that had soon turned into confusion and doubt.

What was he supposed to do? He'd fulfilled his role as a State Alchemist, one who worked primarily in the field, just fine over the years. But like Breda had said, Ed never really had to deal with the complex politics in the military, and he'd rarely had to do office work. Even when he had done office work in the recent months, it had been mostly research.

As Ed neared the office door, he saw that it was open and he stopped. Did he really want to look in there again? Did he want to see the blood and the broken window and be reminded of what had happened? Would that break his resolve and make him doubt that Roy could be alive?

Ed almost turned around and walked away, but he forced himself to take another step, and then another. He wouldn't let what he saw in there make a difference. He wouldn't! Taking a deep breath, Ed moved in front of the doorway and looked inside.

Everything looked as it should.

He let out a breath of relief. Someone, most likely an alchemist, had come in and fixed the window. The blood was out of the carpet as well. Ed walked into the office and stopped for a moment when he imagined Roy sitting at his desk and giving him that smug smirk he always...

Ed shook his head and pushed the thought away. He couldn't deal with that... Not now. Not here. The last thing he wanted was for someone to find him crying in here. He scrubbed at his eyes and headed toward the desk. There was a stack of papers by the phone, but other than that it was cleaned off. Ed wondered if this is how it had been the night it all had happened or if someone had cleaned it up.

Ed shook his head. It was a stupid thing to wonder about. What did it matter anyway? He reached down and picked up one of the papers and stared at the signature at the bottom of the paper. It was Roy's signature... Ed swallowed hard and quickly put the paper back. He wouldn't cry... He had to be strong...

Ed moved around the desk and sat in Roy's chair. He stayed there for several minutes, then began to tap his foot against the floor. What was he supposed to do? Breda had said that he needed to grow up. He'd said that Ed had responsibilities, but for the life of him, Ed couldn't think of what those were.

Where did he start? No one was here... Where was Breda? Where was Hawkeye? Where was Falman and Havoc? Fuery... he knew where Fuery was, but what good did that do him? Ed tapped his fingers against the armrests on the chair and glanced around the dusky office before standing up and looking out the window. The last place he'd seen Havoc was under the tree... He glanced around, but Havoc was no where to be seen.

With a frown, Ed sighed and was about to sit back down when he remembered that Breda had said Hawkeye was at home. 'Shut up in her apartment,' he'd said. Ed put a hand on his hip and scratched his head. He had no idea where Hawkeye lived...

Again, he glanced around, then realized her address would have to be in her file. Hurrying to the filing cabinet, Ed pawed through folder after folder until he came to the personnel files. It didn't take him long after that to locate her file. Committing her address to memory, Ed put the folder back and hurried out the door.

* * *

Winry muttered darkly as she worked on the old truck. Seriously, that man _had_ to get a new truck. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy working on automobiles, because she did, it was just that this particular truck was a piece of junk. She couldn't understand why someone would keep something that obviously was worth a whole lot less than what was put out to keep it running...

With a sigh, Winry straightened, pressed her hands against her back, and leaned back slightly, trying to relieve the ache she was feeling. It was almost dinner and she would need to head in soon.

A slight breeze met her skin and she turned so that it would hit her face. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it for the small bit that it was there. The days were getting much too hot now...

Opening her eyes, Winry felt her body jump slightly. Leaning against one of the trees near her was that guy, Russell Tringham. His arms were folded over his chest and he was staring hard at her in a way that made her feel as though she were naked. She returned his stare, but his gaze never wavered.

Winry turned back to the truck and quickly started gathering up the tools. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to be in the house with Al or granny. With tools in hand, she turned around and felt relieved when she saw he'd gone.

It wasn't that he was really unpleasant to be around, it was just... She didn't know how to explain it. He creeped her out. Sometimes the way he looked at her made her feel so violated. It was stupid, really... He was just _looking_ at her, but... She shook her head and quickly started for the house. She was being stupid, of course. If Al trusted him, then he must be okay. Though it made sense, this thought did little to comfort her.

* * *

Ed's heart beat nervously in his chest as he stared at the door. He wasn't sure _why_ he should be nervous. It wasn't as if he didn't know Hawkeye. Perhaps it was because he'd never been to her home before and now he was showing up unannounced. Plus, Breda had said she didn't want to see anyone. He fidgeted with the braided cord on his military jacket. Maybe he should just come back another time...

He chewed softly on his lip as he tried to decide what to do. Finally he gathered up what courage was in him at the moment and quickly pounded on her door. Maybe she'd be asleep. Maybe she wouldn't be home. Maybe...

The sound of a dog barking came close to the door. He could hear small scratching sounds and could imagine Black Hayate in his mind as the dog excitedly barked for the door to be opened.

_Thanks a lot, mutt,_ Ed thought irritably. The deadbolt clicked and the door cracked open. Black Hayate's black nose appeared in the crack near the floor, and a woman's eye appeared above Ed's head.

"Um... hi..." Ed said, feeling a little foolish. He hadn't really thought about what he'd say before he came. "Can I come in?" he asked. The eye closed for a moment, then he watched as she moved the dog back with her foot and opened the door wider for him to enter.

Ed slipped inside and shut the door behind him. When he glanced forward, he started a little to see how pale and almost sickly the lieutenant looked. Her light colored pajama pants and top made her look even more washed out. Dark circles hung low under tired, red eyes and her hair, usually neatly done up, looked greasy and hung messily down her back.

He pressed his lips together and let out a long breath before saying, "I... um, I heard..." His voice caught and he couldn't finish. Instead, he looked down to hide the fact that, once again, tears were gathering in his eyes. He felt angry with himself. He needed to be strong, but it was so hard! Her feet entered his line of sight and before he could look up, Ed felt her arms wrap around him and hold him in a tight embrace.

At first he felt startled, but that didn't last long. A small sob broke from him and he returned the hug. He hadn't realized just how much he needed someone to hold him until that moment.

Ed wasn't sure how long they stood like that; it felt like a long time, yet at the same time it seemed so short... When he stepped away, he noticed tears in her eyes as well. It was strange, seeing her like that. She'd always seemed to be so strong, so... infallible, yet she had been upset when Fuery had been attacked, why would she be any less upset when on old friend of hers could be dead.

He sniffled a little and gave her a small smile. "Thanks..." he murmured. "I... I guess I needed that..."

She nodded and returned his faint smile. "I guess I did too..." They stood there for a moment longer before she waved a hand toward the couch. "Have a seat."

They both took a seat on the couch, each on either end, and sat there in silence for quite a while before Ed finally said, "I heard..." He stopped and looked hard at the carpet. "I heard you were there..." He trailed off and glanced up to see her staring sadly at him.

"I was..." she murmured quietly.

"He... Do you think that he's really...?" Ed couldn't bring himself to say it. Hawkeye looked away from him, staring blankly at the wall. He wondered what she was seeing that he couldn't.

"I really don't know," she said in a quivering voice. "He passed out before the medics arrived and then they carried him away... I just... I just don't know. No one will say anything for sure..."

That wasn't the answer Ed had been looking for, but at least she didn't think Roy was dead. Ed shifted uncomfortably, then said, "I heard his job might be filled by someone else."

At that, Hawkeye's head snapped to him. "Where did you hear that?" she asked looking surprised and upset.

Ed swallowed and said, "It was just something Breda said..."

Her eyes stared at nothing as she digested that, then whispered, "He must have gotten that information from Falman... if so, then it must be true..."

Ed nodded at that. Falman was almost as good as Fuery when it came to digging up information. He should be. He'd worked under Hughes in the Investigations division for quite a while before he'd transferred to Mustang's unit.

She glanced at him. "What else did he say?"

"Eh..." Ed muttered, not sure exactly what to tell her. "You mean about that position being filled?"

Hawkeye nodded, "Yes, and anything else he said to you." She stopped, then said, "When did you talk to him?"

Ed rubbed at his eyes, then said, "Today. Earlier today. He said..." He paused, then, "He said I needed to take responsibility and that there were things that only I could do because of my rank..."

Hawkeye nodded slowly. "You do have the highest rank of all of us, but..." She stopped and gazed at him wearily.

"What?" he asked.

She let out her breath slowly, and said, "It really doesn't matter. You'd only have temporary authority until the colonel's position is filled."

Ed scrubbed at his head in frustration. Now that he was getting down to why he was there, it was difficult to know what to say. "What do I do?" he asked. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"Edward..." Hawkeye said softly. "Lieutenant Breda is a good man, don't get me wrong, but if I'm right then what he has in mind is for you to be in charge only in name. I believe he thinks that we can decide on what to do, and have it go through your authority. Like I said, that really won't work once the colonel's position is filled."

Ed sat back in shock. "What a bastard..." he muttered quietly.

"Edward," Hawkeye said, and he looked over at her. "I think it would be good for you to learn that not everyone in the military is a bastard."

"He just wanted to use me though!" Ed exclaimed, thoroughly enraged now.

She stared hard at him with those tired eyes, then said, "He's doing what he sees would be best. Breda is a tactician and a brilliant strategist. He's not trying to hurt you; he's trying to keep things together the best way he knows how. Yes, most likely he wanted to use your rank, but I truly believe that he would rather not. If he believed you had the capability to deal with all the politics and intrigue, I'm sure he would let you take care of things with him acting in more of an advisory role when needed."

Ed sat back feeling angry and frustrated. The logical, mature side of him could easily see her point, but the immature, brash side of him wanted to lash out angrily at everyone and stubbornly refuse to cooperate.

"Edward..." He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked back at her.

Hurt tried to push past the anger, but he wouldn't let it. He'd been feeling sad and depressed all day. It felt good to be angry. Standing up, Ed folded his arms and looked down at her. He wasn't angry with _her_, not really, but... But he knew that she didn't seem to think what Breda had in mind was all that bad, and that made him feel a little... betrayed.

"I... I need to go," he said tightly. He could handle it! Maybe he wasn't as experienced as them, but... But what—he didn't know. Maybe they were right, maybe he couldn't handle it. He turned around and started to head for the door.

"Edward, wait," Hawkeye said. "Don't leave angry."

Ed stopped. Roy had said almost the same words to him before he'd left. It hurt, thinking that they hadn't resolved things before he left. He shouldn't have left angry... But Hawkeye wasn't Roy, this wasn't the same.

"I just need to think," he said quietly. He walked to the door and put his hand on the handle. He couldn't let them use him, but how could he stop them besides being as irresponsible as they believed him to be? He had to show them that he really could be mature and responsible, that he could handle things... It was important. When Roy came back, he would see that he'd been wrong about him too. Tears pricked at his eyes again, and he blinked them away. Roy would see when he came back...

"I know you're having a hard time," Ed said to Hawkeye as he kept his eyes on the door. "But, tomorrow is our weekly meeting. I... Even though he's not there, we should still have it. And you should be there." Without waiting for her to answer, Ed opened the door, and left.

* * *

**A note on characterization:**

This chapter was a little difficult to write. In the anime, we really aren't given a whole lot of information on the minor military characters. We get a glance at them and see how they might act in one or two situations, and mostly as comic relief.

For this story, I've made the assumption that no matter how zany, or odd, the character might be in the anime, they have the capacity to be serious minded when the time calls for it. I think this especially for the military officers. They wouldn't be officers if they didn't have that in them.

Breda was definitely difficult to write in this chapter (and, in fact, I ended up doing quite a bit of revision on him because he sounded too much like Hughes or Hawkeye). In stories or chapters where he makes small appearances, he is easy to write because I can rely on what I've seen of him in the anime, but this was definitely a situation the anime didn't portray him in.


	35. Chess

-

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Chess**

**-  
**A beeping sound and hushed murmurs brought Ed slowly into awareness. He was lying down in a bed it seemed. Covers were drawn up under his arms and over his chest. The air in the room was cool, but not so much as to be unpleasant. He wanted to sink back into the dark oblivion from which his mind had just emerged, but the beeping and the murmuring, which he couldn't quite make out, kept him from doing so.

With an effort he opened his eyes, and blinked a couple of times. It wasn't bright; in fact it seemed the only light in the room came from a small source behind him—a lamp perhaps? No, he blinked because the world was blurry in his vision and blinking was the only thing he could think of to help the situation. As his eyes began to clear, he started to make out the lines and little dots that marred the off-white ceiling.

A touch on his arm made him aware that the murmuring had disappeared and only the beeping remained. Slowly, he slid his gaze to his left and military blue filled his view. His eyes traveled up the well made uniform and settled on dark, worried eyes.

"How are you feeling, Edward?" the man standing beside him asked in a whisper.

_Edward_? he thought vaguely, then realized it was the dream. Not just any dream, but _The Dream._ The first time he'd dreamt of Roy; the first time he'd felt something for him. Ed knew what should come next. He'd feel confused and tired, then Roy would frown slightly. Ed would close his eyes and he would feel a touch on his arm, a soft rubbing motion, and it would comfort him.

Ed searched Roy's face, and waited for what he knew would come. He wasn't disappointed. The man's mouth turned down into a slight frown, lips pressing slightly, and his eyebrows crinkled a bit, slightly moving a few strands of the black hair that rested lightly against his forehead. Ed watched and let himself be drawn into the predictable actions.

Tears pricked his eyes as he stared up at Roy. It was a dream. He knew that next he should close his eyes and Roy would touch him gently on his arm. He craved this touch, but he also feared it. To get it, he'd need to close his eyes and he didn't want to. He wanted to stare at Roy forever. Once he closed his eyes, the dream would come to an end. It always did.

Unable to stop himself, Ed's eyes closed and he felt a tear escape one of his eyes and trickle slowly down his cheek. The tears were new, not part of the regular routine. Ed swallowed and waited for Roy to touch his arm, because that's what always happened.

Instead, he felt his tear being wiped away, then, "What's wrong?"

Ed's eyes flew open and he no longer stared at a dotted, white ceiling, but at the smooth, cream colored one over Roy's bed. Or at least, what he could see of it. The room was dim, perhaps dimmer than the other room, and the only light came from the street lamp out the window.

"Ed?" he heard whispered in his ear, and he turned to see Roy's eyes staring at him in concerned silence from where he lay next to him... Ed thought he could drown in those black pools; they were so dark and deep.

He swallowed hard and croaked, "Roy?" Another tear trickled down his cheek because he understood that this too was a dream. It wasn't real. Reality was him sleeping alone in Roy's bed. Reality was Roy missing and possibly dead. Reality was...

"Hey..." Roy whispered affectionately, then gently wiped the new tear away. "What's this?" A small sob broke from Ed and he slipped one of his arms under Roy's neck, and the other around his body. Warm arms encircled him, returning the embrace.

"Where are you?" Ed moaned desperately into Roy's chest.

There was silence from the other man for a moment, then, "I'm right here, Ed..." Roy sounded somewhat confused.

"No, you're not," Ed whispered heartbrokenly and sniffled. He could feel Roy beneath his fingers, feel his body pressed close and his face being tickled by the little hairs on Roy's chest, but he knew... He knew this was a dream, and eventually all dreams ended.

"Are you calling me short?" Roy asked, amused. Ed blinked and pulled back to look into his lover's face.

"What?" Ed asked in confusion.

Roy grinned while reaching up to wipe gently at Ed's tears. "I just thought you were saying that I was so short that it didn't even look like I was here."

To this obvious attempt to pull him from his sadness, Ed couldn't help but laugh. "That's _my_ line," he said, and felt more tears flow from his eyes. His laughter turned into sobs and he rested is forehead against Roy's bare shoulder.

So real.

It all seemed so real...

He could smell Roy, could feel him under his fingers...

"I don't know where you are," Ed moaned through his tears. "I don't even know if you're alive, and now I'm supposed to do something and I don't know what. I don't want to be used anymore, Roy. Why can't everything be just fine? What can't we just be together and not have to worry?"

There was silence from Roy and this made Ed cry harder. This dream Roy wouldn't know what he was talking about. Suddenly, he felt the man move to sit up and Ed let himself fall against the bed in the empty space where Roy had just been laying. Hands grabbed him and pulled him into a sitting position.

"Come here, Ed," he heard Roy say softly before he felt a small pull forward. Ed scooted in the indicated direction and found himself sitting on top of Roy's crossed legs. His lover wrapped his arms around him and tenderly kissed his cheek before slowly rocking him back and fourth, making hushing noises in an effort to soothe him.

"I'm here, Ed. I'll always be here," Roy whispered soft reassurances in his ear. Ed felt a dull ache in his chest at that and snaked his arms around Roy's torso, holding on tight.

"Will you?" he asked breathily, his voice laced with pain. "Will you really?" When there was no answer, Ed pulled back and stared the man in the eyes. To this, Roy glanced away and wouldn't meet his gaze. "You bastard..." Ed sobbed angrily. "You _bastard_! Even in my dreams you try to keep things from me!"

Roy looked back at him sadly and asked, "What else can I do?"

"Trust me!" Ed hissed through his tears, then hiccupped. Again Roy said nothing, and Ed begged softly, "Why won't anyone trust me?" He paused. "They just want to use me until someone comes to take your place... I..." His lip trembled and more tears spilled from his eyes. "I know they just want to do what's best, but they're doing it at _my_ expense!" He poked himself in the chest when he said 'my'. Ed shook his head and continued on. "I don't know what to do. I feel so trapped, Roy. Won't you tell me what to do?" He looked pleadingly into those black eyes.

Roy lifted a hand and gently touched Ed's face before leaning in and kissing his swollen lips. When Roy pulled back, Ed felt the man's hand on his and moments later something was pressed into his palm. He looked down and saw a black pawn and queen. It looked to be from the chess game some general had given him as a going away present when he left the East.

He glanced up and gave Roy a questioning look, but the man merely smiled. "Chess is an important game, Ed. You can apply it to your life as a soldier. I've just given you two valuable lessons right there in your hand."

Ed crinkled his forehead in thought. Personally, Ed didn't play chess. Al had learned to play over the years from both Heymans Breda and Kain Fuery—he'd even played with Roy a few times—but Ed had never been able to get into it. It took too much patience, and it frustrated him to no end. He always ended up rushing into things, and ultimately losing the game.

Ed opened his mouth to speak, but felt himself pushed onto the bed. Lying on his back, Ed said, "Just tell me what you're getting at." That was just so Roy... Only giving him some vague hint for him to figure things out on his own...

Roy smiled fondly and kissed his lips. "You'll figure it out," he whispered. "I know you will." A moment later, Roy leaned in and pressed his lips down lightly against Ed's. Ed sighed at the contact and closed his eyes. He'd missed this so much... Finally, the lips lifted off of his and when Ed opened his eyes, Roy was gone.

He sat up quickly and looked around Roy's bedroom, but didn't see anyone. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they were empty. Tears pricked at his eyes as he realized that this wasn't a dream.

This was reality, and he was alone.

Lying back on the mattress, Ed stared up at the ceiling and softly sniffled as more tears leaked from his eyes and down his face.

It had been so _real_!

So real...

He pressed his lips together as if that would keep them from trembling. Grabbing Roy's pillow, Ed buried his face in it and sobbed. It still smelled like him, but it wasn't Roy...

Ed cried for a time, then finally was able to calm himself. He would be fine. Everything would be okay because he was sure Roy was alive. He was sure of it... He had to be.

Reaching over to the night stand, Ed picked up his watch and checked the time before moving the pillow back to where it had been. He didn't feel tired anymore, but it was the middle of the night—into the morning hours in fact.

He sniffled and thought about the dream he'd had. A chill ghosted over his skin as he thought of being touched and held by Roy. Ed closed his eyes, squeezing more tears out and tried not to think of that. He'd already cried enough. Instead he tried to concentrate on what Roy had said.

What did a pawn and a queen have to do with anything? Ed shook his head. It was a dumb question. It was a dream, after all. But still, it bothered him. With a deep sigh, Ed forced himself out of bed and headed toward the closet where Roy kept his chess set. Fishing it out, Ed laid it on the bed, opened the case, and peered at the pieces.

He touched the queen, then one of the pawns lightly before snorting to himself. He didn't even know what the pieces did... Ed shut the case and sat on the bed next to the game, trying to figure out what to do next.

* * *

Ed walked into the hospital and squinted at the bright lights. He knew that he shouldn't be out late alone, not with Scar(1) killing off State Alchemists when he could get his hands on them. But Ed hadn't been able to sleep. He'd felt too preoccupied with the dream he'd had to do anything else.

Finally he'd decided to come to the hospital and talk with Kain Fuery. Breda had said the man would be released soon, so he must be feeling a lot better. Of course, it hadn't been until Ed was almost to the hospital that he realized that it was the middle of the night and the man would probably be asleep. It was also then that he remembered what else Breda had said, the part about Fuery not being able to remember anything.

Ed sighed and made his way to the counter. Instead of turning around and going home, Ed had decided to come to the hospital anyway. He could at least drop by and see if Fuery was awake.

Shifting the chess case in his hands, Ed said, "Excuse me..."

The man behind the counter looked up from what he was doing and said, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah..." Ed paused. If they were going to release Fuery soon, then he might have been moved from the secured floor. In that case, he wasn't sure where to go. "I'm looking for Kain Fuery's room."

"Hmmm..." The man shuffled through some papers, before giving him the floor and room number. Ed thanked the man and started off. With an inner sigh, Ed realized that it might have been nice if he'd brought a card or something... Not that it would matter really if Fuery didn't know who he was.

It didn't take long for Ed to reach Kain's floor and when he started to pass by the nurse's station, a woman who looked to be in her early twenties said, "I'm sorry... visiting hours are over, you'll have to come back tomorrow."

Ed frowned and nodded before shifting the game in his hands. The woman looked down at it, then back up at him, "Are you here to see Kain Fuery?"

He blinked in surprise, then said, "Eh, yeah... How did you know?"

She smiled softly and nodded toward the game. "A handsome, dark-haired soldier often comes at night sometime to play chess with him. Sometimes he's in uniform, sometimes not." She shrugged. "I've talked with him a little. He seemed rather nice." The woman sighed, then said a little dreamily, "Too bad he's already taken..."

Ed's frown deepened and he said, "How do you know he's already taken?"

She raised an eyebrow and said, "I mentioned that we should go get drinks together or something, but he said he was already taken."

To this, Ed felt like crying again. Even while he was gone, Roy had stayed faithful to him. Guilt welled up within him as he thought about how he'd been wondering if he had anything with Roy or not. He swallowed hard. How could he have doubted?

Then what she'd said dawned on him and he said, "I thought you said visiting hours were over..."

She grinned, "Well, I do make exceptions sometimes."

Ed smirked. "To good looking soldiers?" To this she laughed and nodded. Ed fished out his pocket watch and said, "I just happen to be a soldier; will that do?"

She looked him up and down before saying, "Well, I suppose I can let you see him since you fit both of the criteria." Ed blushed deeply. He wasn't told all that often that he was good looking by anyone other than Roy. When she saw him flush, she grinned and pointed to one of the rooms. "He's in there."

"Thanks," Ed murmured.

She nodded. "Sure. Maybe we could get a drink together sometime," she said, and gave him a wink.

Giving her a sheepish look, Ed said, "Actually..."

The nurse held up her hand, "No, don't tell me... You're taken." Ed nodded. She sighed. "The story of my life. Okay, go see your friend. Just don't tell anyone I let you, okay?"

Ed nodded again as he started toward the door with a grin on his face. He'd never been hit on so openly before and it kind of made him feel good about himself... Ed didn't think he was as good looking as Roy was; and, in fact, he often didn't think much about his looks at all. Ed had thought himself to not be exactly ugly, but nothing really special, so he never went out of his way to make himself look good. Not like Roy who...

Ed reached the door and tried to push that line of thought aside. It was too painful, thinking about how Roy would keep himself so clean and well kempt. Roy would always take such good care of his hair and his... Shaking his head, Ed turned the doorknob and opened the door.

The room was dark, but with the dim light from the hall, Ed could see that there were plenty of flowers and cards, and he was suddenly kind of glad he didn't bring one. After all, what was one more card? Letting himself inside, Ed shut the door and slowly made his way to one of the chairs.

He was about to sit down when he heard, "Who's there?"

Ed blinked. He was sure that Fuery would be asleep... "Did I wake you up?" he asked.

"Eh, no. I was already awake..." A pause, then, "Who are you?"

"Edward Elric," Ed answered, not sure if the man would recognize his name or not.

Silence filled the room for almost a minute, then he heard the bedding rub together as the man moved and suddenly a dim light turned on near the bed. Ed blinked, then watched as Fuery moved away from the switch, picked up a pair of glasses from a small table near the bed, and settled into a sitting position.

Ed frowned. "I thought your glasses were broken..."

The other man smiled and said, "They got me new ones." Fuery let his eyes move over Ed, then said, "You're... a little different than I though you'd look..."

Ed's forehead crinkled in confusion. "What you do you mean?"

"The man... um, Roy Mustang, he talks about you a lot." He frowned. "I heard... I heard that he was hurt." Ed nodded. "He's the only person who really visits me regularly..." Fuery's voice trailed off, and Ed couldn't help feeling bad at the sad look painted across the man's face.

"I... eh, I was away..." Ed said, feeling the need to explain why he hadn't visited.

Fuery nodded, as if he'd known that, then pointed to the game in Ed's hands. "Did you come to play?"

"Well, I..." Ed glanced down at the chess set. Did Fuery even remember how to play? He must if he'd played with Roy, right? Or... "Well, actually, I don't really know how to play," Ed confessed sheepishly.

The other man tilted his head and gave him an amused look before pointing at the small table near the bed. "Set up here and I'll teach you what I know. It's not much; I've got to warn you. I only know what Roy taught me."

Ed, already up and moving toward the table, stopped and said, "Roy?"

Fuery frowned. "That's his name, right?"

"Well, yeah... but..." Ed set the game down and opened the case. "You never called him by his first name before... You usually called him 'the colonel' or sometimes 'Mustang', but..." He trailed off, looking at the pieces. He didn't even know how to set the board up...

"Well, I don't know him as 'the colonel', and he said I could call him 'Roy' if I wanted," Fuery answered, sounding defensive and a little irritated.

Ed glanced up, "Yeah... sorry..."

The two stared at each other for a moment before Fuery sighed and started setting up the board. "It's fine..." he said, a little bitterly.

Ed suddenly felt guilty. It wasn't Fuery's fault he couldn't remember anything, and Ed supposed it wasn't nice to remind him of what he was forgetting. Looking down, Ed silently watched how the board was set up for future reference. When the game was ready, Fuery pointed to each piece and explained what moves each was allowed to make.

"...and that's it," Fuery said. He seemed pleased that he'd remembered it all. "Roy says that we can learn a lot from chess and that everyone should know how to play it."

Ed's head snapped up from looking at the pieces. "Like what?" Ed asked. "I mean, what could you possibly learn from say..." He glanced back down to the board and pointed to one of the pawns. "...one of the pawns?"

Fuery nodded. "The pawns are the smallest, and seemingly the most unimportant, pieces in the game, but the pawn can still kill the king." He paused, then, "That's like us..." he said quietly. "We may feel like we're small and unimportant, but we can do anything if we try." Another pause. "Also, some people tend to overlook those who seem unimportant."

Ed nodded. That sounded like something Mustang would say. "What about the queen?" he asked.

"The queen can do everything the other pieces can, except for the knight," Fuery answered.

"And?" Ed asked impatiently.

"And... well, we should realize that we can do most things if we put our mind to it, but we also need to recognize our limitations. There are some things that we can't do."

Ed mulled over that. He supposed that if he'd been younger, he would have thought his dream Roy giving him the pawn had been a slight on his height. But he was older and hopefully a bit smarter than he used to be.

Letting out his breath, Ed frowned down at the board. What could he do? What were his options? What were his limitations?

"In chess, and in life, we need to also understand when to be willing to sacrifice." Ed glanced up at Fuery. "We can't grow so attached to our pieces that we forget what we're trying to accomplish. Finishing the game without losing any is the best, but it's not practical." Ed stared at the man in a strange fascination at all that he'd said. It was as if Roy was speaking directly to him...

Fuery shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable with Ed's intense stare. "That's just something he would talk about a lot. Sometimes he would say things referring to the pieces, but sometimes I think he wasn't referring to the game at all, but to something real. 'Each piece has a part to play, and sometimes we must make dangerous plays to win the game,' he would say."

Fuery frowned. "Something dangerous is going on. I asked him about it, but he wouldn't tell me."

Ed gave a small half smile. "You're not the only one he wouldn't tell." Looking down he pointed to the king. "What about the king?"

To this Fuery frowned in thought for a moment, as if searching is mind for the information, then nodded and said, "The king is pretty much a useless piece since he can only move one space at a time. He can do a little more than the pawn, but not much. Also, the king's vulnerability makes moving dangerous. There were several things he said about this."

He paused and gave a small embarrassed smile. "I can't remember them all... I kind of have a hard time remembering things people tell me... but one was that people with a lot of power are always spent being guarded by others, but on their own they're practically useless. Another is that drawing a lot of attention to yourself is dangerous because then everyone wants to kill you." Fuery glanced up into Ed's eyes, and said softly, "Beware of being like the king."

* * *

Al yawned tiredly as he scratched idly at his chest. He'd stayed up late with Russell discussing this and that theory. Usually, his discussions with the chemist were deep and insightful, but last night...

Well, it wasn't as if it had been uninteresting, but it just felt lacking. Whenever they delved too far into a subject, Russell moved the focus of the discussion somewhere else. That somewhere else generally seemed to be another prod to get Al to join the People's Army. Al shook his head as he descended the stairs. That was so Russell though; he was naturally pushy.

He yawned again and stretched his arms as he headed toward the back door. Letting himself out, Al breathed in deeply. Mornings in the summer were just wonderful. It was still cool, yet not so much as to be uncomfortable. The world around him was only faintly lit by the soft light in the east where the sun was still well behind the horizon. A few bugs chirped here and there, and the birds were staring to sing a little, making this the perfect morning for a work out.

Al wandered out onto the grass and warmed up a little. Pulling off his shirt, he tossed it aside before plunging himself into the forms he'd been taught. It felt so good to be well enough to do things like this again. Al frowned as he punched the air, thoughts of the fight he'd had with Ed suddenly filling his mind.

Al dropped his stance and shook his head slightly. That wasn't what he wanted to think about right now. Taking a deep breath, Al pushed the bad memories out of his mind. He concentrated hard on what he was doing and let his body flow smoothly with each movement. He lost himself in the fluidness of each move and when he was done he felt refreshed and ready to start the day.

Bending down, Al picked his shirt up and wiped the sweat off his face before turning to the house. He blinked in surprise when he saw Winry leaning on the railing as she watched him. He suddenly felt embarrassed and thought about putting his shirt back on, but with the way she was watching him, he almost got the feeling as if she liked what she was seeing.

Well, he'd have to get used to her seeing him without a shirt, and... other... things, if they were going to get married. Walking back to the porch, Al climbed the steps and moved to stand beside her.

"Good morning," he said quietly as he looked down at her.

She smiled up at him and said, "Morning." A pause, then, "That looked really good." A slight blush lit her cheeks and she glanced away from him and out to the grass beyond. He grinned and closed his eyes, enjoying the thought that she'd been checking him out. Leaning on the railing, Al smiled happily at the slight breeze that was cooling his body.

They stood there in silence for a time before Winry said, "Al..."

"Hm?" Opening his eyes, he turned and looked at her. She glanced at him, then away. He frowned. She seemed nervous about something... "What is it?"

"Well... It's your friend, Russell. I don't like him."

He laughed. "Well, Ed doesn't either. They can get along sometimes, but usually they don't." He glanced at her and let his laughter cut off when he saw she was staring at him seriously.

"He gives me the creeps," she said, almost defensively.

"He's harmless, Winry. Don't worry. That's just his personality."

She scowled. "That doesn't mean I have to like him."

Al searched her face and wondered if she thought this way of Russell because he was constantly on Al to join the rebellion. He knew that she didn't like it, but he also knew that she tried to support him in what he thought was right too.

"Don't worry, Winry. I'm not going to join the People's Army," he said, trying to soothe her.

To this, her eyes crinkled slightly and she said quietly, "I'm glad... But, Al... It's not about that... I can't put my finger on it, but he _really_ makes me uncomfortable."

Shaking his head, Al said, "I told you, he's harmless. Now, maybe if your name was Edward Elric you'd have something to worry about." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he said, "He's used Ed's name before; pretended to be him."

"And you call that harmless?" she asked a little irritably.

Al made a sound of exasperation and glanced back out over the yard. "Well, what do you want me to do? Send him away?" When she didn't answer him, he looked at her and saw it written plainly on her face. "You do..." he affirmed softly. "Winry, look, I've known him and his brother for a few years and I _know_ he can be trusted, okay?"

She folded her arms and glanced away for a moment before saying, "You're just too nice Al..." A pause. "Fine. If you say so, then I'll trust you..."

Al felt a shiver pass through him and he pulled his shirt back on before stepping close to her and giving her a small hug. They stood like that for a time before she spoke up again.

"Al?"

He pulled back and looked down at her. "Yeah?"

Winry looked down and said quietly, "When are you going to leave to find Ed?"

He frowned. Not this again... "Why do you ask?" Why did she keep asking this? Did she _want_ him to leave? Or perhaps she just wanted to see Ed again...

"Well... I just thought that you would want him to come to the wedding..." she said softly.

Al let go of her and leaned against the railing. Of course he wanted his brother there, but... Guilt rushed through him as he thought that he kind of _didn't _want Ed there. He knew it was distrustful of him, but Winry had always been very fond of Ed, and what if she still was? What if she wanted to see if there was a chance with Ed before she really went through with marrying him?

He hated himself for being suspicious like this, but he loved Winry and he didn't want to lose her... He _did_ believe that she loved him too, but... what if she... He swallowed hard and tried to push aside his negativity, but it didn't work. Instead, he couldn't help feeling a little bitter that his brother should always get the better deal when he was such a jerk sometimes.

"Al?"

He blinked and realized he'd been scowling at the yard. With an effort, he smoothed his face, and glanced at her. "Hm?"

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking concerned.

Al knew he should probably just ask her about her feelings instead of dwelling on what might be, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he sighed and said, "Nothing... If you want, I'll go find him before the wedding... I think I know where he is anyway..."

She frowned. "You don't sound too happy about it..."

What could he say? He _did_ want to see Ed again. Of course he did. He missed his brother. It was just his irrational fears eating away at him. If Ed did come and if Winry decided that she wanted to be with him more.

Anger filled him, but he kept his face smooth. He knew he was being illogical, but he was just so worried. He felt confused and hurt too because he needed them both in his life, but if they ended up together instead... He'd just feel so... betrayed...

"Al?" Winry said, her voice filled with worry.

"I'm fine... I'm just... I'm just worried that brother might not have changed any. I don't want to get into another big fight with him." All very true, but not the real reason he was holding off going to see Ed.

She smiled softly and said, "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll bet Ed will be glad you came to find him.

_I wouldn't be so sure,_ Al thought. Ed wasn't the type to run off and hide with the hope that someone would come after him. If Ed was staying out of touch, it meant that he didn't want to be found.

Winry watched him closely for a moment, then said, "I'm sure it will be for the best. You guys shouldn't be so distant from each other."

"Yeah..." Al said. He felt like a real jerk. Winry did love him, and Ed would not try to steal his fiancé. He shook his head and wondered why he was letting this eat at him. He needed to relax and trust them.

Wrapping his arms around her, he bent down and kissed her gently on the lips before saying softly, "I trust you, Winry."

She blinked in surprise, then smiled happily back at him. "I trust you too, Al."

* * *

Ed yawned as he walked down the sidewalk. He'd spent hours talking with Kain Fuery, and now it was morning. The birds were singing and the world was getting light again. He blearily looked at the small set of apartments in front of him before walking the last span toward them.

When he was almost to the front door, he heard a crash. Shaking his head, Ed headed toward the apartment that belonged to the little old lady who owned the place. As he passed by her window, he could hear her murmuring to herself. When he knocked on the door, the murmurings stopped and he could hear her hurrying toward the door.

When the woman opened the door, she blinked at him in surprise. "Good morning, Edward..." she said.

"I heard something break, and thought I'd come see if I could help," Ed said more cheerfully than he felt.

She practically melted before his eyes. "Oooooh, you're such a nice young man!" she exclaimed and waved him in. Ed grinned and headed toward the mess on the floor. Before he'd come, Roy had been the one to help the lady whenever she broke anything, but now they took turns. Ed would have never thought the man would be so nice to an old woman, but she _was_ the landlady, so...

After fixing the cup, Ed handed it to her and said, "As good as new!"

"Oh, thank you! I just don't know what I'd do without you two boys."

Ed chuckled. "No problem. I'll be going now."

"Wait... I've been meaning to ask..." She paused, and her mouth turned down into a concerned frown. "How is Roy? I read in the paper about him being shot, but the article didn't say if he was alive or not," she said worriedly.

Ed sighed, "No one knows yet. The military isn't telling. All we can do is wait."

She frowned and patted him on the arm. "I know you two are good friends, so this must be very hard on you. If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

Ed gave her a small smile. "That's nice of you, but really the only thing I need right now is to be able to see him."

The old lady nodded gravely and continued to pat his arm. "I'll see what I can do," she said seriously.

"Sure," Ed said with a weak smile. "Thanks." No need to tell the woman he didn't think she'd be able to do anything. After all, it was the thought that counted, right?

With a small wave, Ed headed back to Roy's door, but instead of going inside, he sat down on the ground near the door, pulled out his pack of smokes, and lit one up. Taking a drag, Ed put his mind to work, trying to decide what to do.

* * *

1 – As said in the A/N in the first chapter, Scar is still on the loose.


	36. Deliberation

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

**Deliberation**

**-  
**Jean Havoc walked slowly toward Central Headquarters. It was still early, but he hadn't slept well last night, or the night before, or the night before that... How could he sleep well when everything had gone so wrong?

He stopped at an intersection, waiting for the traffic light to change so he could cross. Closing his eyes, he took a deep drag on his cigarette and frowned as the memories from that night filled his mind. Memories of running, lots of running. Memories of Riza shouting at him in an almost uncontrolled panic as she raced toward the colonel's office...

Jean opened his eyes and started walking across the street and across the well taken care of grounds of headquarters.

_It wasn't supposed to happen that way,_ he thought to himself as he sat down under the nearest tree. He flicked his current cigarette, now smoked down to the filter, away before fishing another one out.

Lighting it, Jean leaned against the tree and closed his tired eyes again. The sound of the office door crashing open and that one moment of horrified silence as he took in the broken window, the blood, and Riza's horrified expression before she rushed into the room.

He'd been too stunned to move and he'd watched with a heavy pain in his chest as Hawkeye knelt down next to the colonel. It had been Colonel Mustang's voice that had prompted him to move. Jean hadn't been able to understand just why Mustang would ask for Ed of all people.

He'd walked to the desk and stood there. He hadn't been able to tear his gaze away. She'd denied being Ed and turned to Jean telling him to call the doctor, which he did, though now he couldn't remember what he'd said or what they had said back. He hadn't been able to concentrate on that because Mustang had kept calling for Ed—kept thinking that Hawkeye was Ed.

And Riza had cried. Jean had never actually seen her cry. He'd seen evidence that she had, but Riza Hawkeye was a strong woman who didn't like to show that kind of weakness in front of others. But she had cried and begged the colonel to hold on; tried to tell him that she wasn't Ed.

It was then, that was when Mustang had said it. He'd said it and Jean had felt his body stiffen and his blood run cold. He'd been too shocked to even know what to think, but he'd needed to force it away. He had to because it was after that the colonel had passed out. The medics rushed in after that and then...

And then, he was gone.

He had been taken away, and Riza had cried more. At first, Jean felt a little unsure what to do, but the only thing he could think of was to hold her and comfort her.

So he had.

Jean opened his eyes and sighed. He could still feel her body pressed next to his. He could still feel her uniform and hair the way he could that night when he'd held her and comforted her. He could still smell her.

He wanted to hold her again...

He looked up at the branches of the tree as if he would find her there. He'd always thought Riza Hawkeye a beautiful woman, and he'd always had respect for her, but seeing her like that... She'd been so _real_, so human...

Jean took a puff on his cigarette. It had been as if he could protect her. In that moment, he'd seen her for the woman that she was. Yes, she was strong, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be weak sometimes. It didn't mean that she couldn't let someone take care of _her_.

And Jean liked that. He liked it a lot. He wouldn't want to be with a woman who wouldn't let him protect her sometimes, and he supposed that's why he'd never really looked at Hawkeye as a 'woman' before. She had always seemed like the type who could never let herself rely on someone emotionally, but now he wondered if he was wrong.

He was wrong, he was sure of it.

He felt a wave of depression as he flicked his cigarette away and lit up a new one. Of course, Riza Hawkeye would never feel for him what he felt for her, of that he was sure. And they were co-workers, which would probably not go over well, and she was a rank above him... She was much too professional to consider a relationship with a coworker.

Jean frowned when the colonel's words came back to him in full force. Could it just be that the man had been delusional? Well, of course he had been; he'd mistaken Riza for Ed, but... the other...

Could the colonel have been having an affair with _Edward Elric_?! Sure, it was possible. They'd lived together. How could he have not seen this before? Was all the ranting and poking fun at each other just some sort of messed up foreplay? But then... they'd seemed to get along rather well since Ed had come back from Rizembool a few months ago. It must have been then that..._whatever_...they had together must have started.

Jean pressed his lips together around the cigarette in anger. If this were all true, and he couldn't see why it wasn't, then Ed being gone must have been the reason why the colonel had been working so much. Maybe if Mustang hadn't been working himself into the ground these past few weeks things would have been different. Or perhaps, if the colonel and Ed had never started...

Jean shook his head. Well, there was no knowing now, but he was pretty sure that things would have been different. Somehow, this was Ed's fault. There was no way Mustang would have been so sloppy otherwise.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked over to see Riza walking toward headquarters. He felt surprise and concern flash through him, mixed with a little suspicion. She hadn't shown any surprise at what the colonel had been saying. Maybe it was that it hadn't sunk in, given the circumstances, but he didn't think so.

His eyes moved with her as she walked down the sidewalk toward him. She'd seen him, but she'd looked away slightly, as if a little embarrassed. When she was close enough, Jean said, "You never answered any of my phone calls."

* * *

Ed rubbed his eyes before looking at himself in the mirror. He was tired. He'd hardly had any sleep at all, but he knew he couldn't afford to miss today and just sleep. He had to be at that meeting, and he had to do...

Sighing, Ed picked up his brush and dragged the bristles through his hair. He'd thought a lot this morning after helping the landlady. He'd thought about the dream. He'd thought about Kain Fuery and the chess games they'd played. He thought about Breda and Hawkeye, and he'd thought about what was going on in the military with Roy gone.

He'd come to a conclusion too.

Ed wasn't willing to let people use him for their own gain, but he wasn't about to let things go to hell while Roy was gone either. So he'd come up with a plan. Hopefully it would work. He wasn't sure it would. Truthfully, he was worried it wouldn't, but he was going to do it anyway.

Ed put the brush down and stared at himself. He couldn't help remembering the nurse's comments. Was he really an attractive person, or was she just playing with him? He reached up and fingered the long, blond hair that hung loose and flowed past his shoulders. He usually put it in a braid because that's what was the most convenient, but...

* * *

"I needed to think," Riza answered softly.

"I was worried about you," Jean said just as softly. He had the urge to get up and wrap his arms around her, but he resisted. The time for physical condolences had long since past.

"I..." She swallowed hard and nodded. "I know and I appreciate that, it's just that..." She pressed her lips together for a moment and shook her head. "I just needed time."

Jean frowned slightly. "It's only been a few days. Maybe you should take more time off," he suggested.

To this, Hawkeye shook her head. "We have the weekly meeting later this morning."

Jean scowled. "You came for the _meeting_?" He shook his head. "With the colonel... not here... I don't think the meeting will last long. I could give you the rundown over the phone if you..." He trailed off when she started shaking her head.

"We're all supposed to be at the meeting, if we're able. I'm able, so I'll be there. Besides," she said, her voice losing volume. "I have a job to do... We all..." Her voice caught and he could see her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "...have jobs to do."

"Lieutenant..." Jean began, but she simply waved a hand at him.

"I think that more will happen today than you believe," she said, her voice stronger than it had been a moment before.

* * *

Ed reached back and held his hair up in a ponytail. He'd put it up in a ponytail when he was in a hurry or just wanted to get it out of his face for the moment, but it was generally something quick and nothing especially nice. He turned his head this way and that before grabbing the brush and neatly brushing it back, then tying it carefully in place. Ed checked himself again with a critical eye.

Roy liked his hair. Would he like this style? Ed tilted his head as he studied himself, thinking that it kind of made him look a little older; maybe a bit more mature.

Sighing, Ed left the bathroom and quickly headed to the bedroom where he retrieved his pocket watch, then stuffed it in that little pocket sewn into the uniform specifically for the damn thing. He stuffed his almost empty pack of smokes—most of which had been smoked that morning—into another pocket, along with a small book of matches.

With one last look around, he headed for the front door. Letting himself out, Ed started walking, then stopped and pulled a cigarette out. He was so nervous. What if it was the wrong move?

He kept asking himself, 'What would Roy do in this situation?' It helped... a little. He was pretty sure that Roy wouldn't do what he was about to. Most likely, Roy would have a nice formulated plan and slowly go about it without anyone noticing.

That wasn't Ed, so he'd just have to do the best he knew how.

Someday, maybe he'd be like Roy in some ways—mature, commanding, and respected—but today, for now, he'd simply have to pretend the best he could. He had to be all that Roy was, even though he couldn't take his place.

Ed tucked the matches away and glanced at his reflection in the window. Today, he was going to have to try to be like Roy, and maybe tomorrow and the day after... He was going to have to try making most of the moves Roy would. Of course, there would be some things that he couldn't do, but he'd do what he could.

Ed took a drag and started walking towards Central Headquarters. Today, he was going to stop being the pawn, and try being the queen.

* * *

Jean's eyes narrowed a little. "What do you mean?" he asked. Riza shrugged a little, but said nothing, making Jean's mouth pull down into a deep frown around his cigarette. She knew something.

That really didn't surprise him. Riza always seemed to know something, always seemed to be 'in the know'. This brought his mind back to that night with the colonel and he studied her face.

If Roy Mustang and Ed Elric really were having an affair, had she known? If he asked, would she tell him? It was a dangerous thing, and dangerous things were generally better kept to a small group, or even not at all.

Of course, there was always the big question of: Did he _really_ want to know?

Jean took a drag on his cigarette and scrubbed a hand along his chin, trying to decide if he should attempt rocking the boat on this. Sticking one's nose in where it hadn't been invited could cause more problems than it solved. But then, as they say, curiosity killed the cat; and while Jean wasn't a cat, he sure was damn curious.

"Lieutenant," Jean finally said cautiously. He hesitated asking her about that night. In his opinion, she looked as though she was barely holding herself together as it was. He knew she blamed herself for what happened and that made it even worse.

"Yes?" Hawkeye said after he'd been silent too long.

"About... that night... I..." He paused, then, "I need to ask you a question." Another pause. "About the colonel and..."

"You came," a voice said, cutting him off. Jean looked over and saw Ed walking toward him. Frowning, Jean studied Ed. The teen was wearing his military uniform and had his hair pulled back in a high ponytail. A cigarette was nestled between two of his fingers and he brought it up to take a drag before speaking again.

"I was worried that..." Ed started, then trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind," he said instead as he stopped beside Hawkeye. Ed studied them both for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying, "I'd like the two of you to come with me. I think..." He trailed off again as if he was half talking to them, half talking to himself.

Hawkeye nodded, but Jean shook his head, "No thanks. I'll stay here." He had no desire to go anywhere with Ed. Right now, what he wanted to do was clobber the kid and demand answers. Anger bubbled hot beneath his calm façade and he was barely holding himself back from demanding why he had interfered with the colonel at all.

Ed frowned and glared at him for a moment before his face smoothed out. "That's not a request, Lieutenant. It's an order."

Jean raised an eyebrow. _Ed_ was ordering _him_ around? Well, the kid _was_ a superior officer, but Ed had never bothered to order anyone around before. This only served to deepen Jean's resentment.

Flicking his cigarette away, Jean stood and brushed off his uniform. An order was an order, and for now he didn't see any harm in following the kid around to wherever he was going. Or at least, he didn't see the point in causing problems for himself when it was just one little thing.

With a scowl, Jean motioned forward with his hand and said, sarcasm heavy in his voice, "Lead us then, Major Elric. In your wisdom we trust."

To this, he saw blood rush to Ed's smooth face, though whether in embarrassment or anger, Jean couldn't tell. Instead of the outburst Jean had expected, Ed turned stiffly and started toward the main entrance of the building without a word.

Jean glanced at Hawkeye, who was giving him a disapproving look. She glanced at Ed, then back to him before giving a small shake of her head as if to say, 'Don't do that' or even 'That was a little childish, don't you think?'

Jean gave her a wry look in return before following Ed. Riza might think that following the brat's orders were okay because he was higher in rank, but he didn't. Of course, he wasn't about to tell her that until he knew where she stood. He didn't want to look like a fool in her eyes, and he didn't want to cause problems for himself. He'd wait to see how things played out before deciding where he'd cast his lot.

* * *

Fletcher sighed as he sunk into the kitchen chair. His body was sore, but he felt really great. Who knew that this physical training could be so addictive? Sure it hurt sometimes and he was sore a lot, but it felt good to get out there and just focus on the moves and forms.

A plate was set in front of him before his teacher sat down in one of the chairs. Her husband sat in one of the others and they started on their breakfast. Fletcher eagerly picked his fork up and was about to take a bite when the phone rang.

They all looked at each other for a moment before Fletcher got up, walked to the phone and said politely, "Curtis residence. Fletcher speaking."

"Fletcher?" came the voice on the other line.

"Yeah."

"This is Alphonse."

"Oh! Al!" Fletcher exclaimed and a smile spread on his face. "I heard about you getting your body back!"

"Yeah!" Al said a little more cheerfully than he'd sounded a moment before. "It's nice to be 'real' again."

"Yeah..." Fletcher said, then asked, "Did Russel get there okay?"

"He did. He's fine," Al answered.

"Can I talk to him?" he asked eagerly.

"Well... I actually don't know where he is right now... I think he went into town, but I'm not sure..." Al said, sounding a little confused. "I'll tell him to give you a call when I see him. That okay?"

"Yeah..." Fletcher said, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. "Um... Ed was here a few days ago..."

"What?!" Al exclaimed. "How long was he there? Was he okay?"

"He was just here for a couple of days," Fletcher said. "And he looked okay, I guess... but he said he needed to go back to Central."

"Central..." Al said, frustration saturating his words. "Figures..."

Fletcher heard Al sigh and felt a little bad for him, so he said, "But, he said he might be going to Rizembool some time soon..."

"He did?" Al said, and Fletcher wasn't sure if the other alchemist sounded happy about that or not.

"Well, yeah, but he didn't say for sure..."

"I see," Al said, and for a moment there was silence before, "Is teacher there?"

"Yeah, just a second," Fletcher said, then held the phone out to Izumi. "It's Al."

Izumi stood and took the phone from him and Fletcher heard, "Hello, Alphonse," as he sat back down in his chair. He took a bite of his food and heard, "Oh, he did, did he?" A pause. "That's right, I had my reasons for taking him on as a student."

Fletcher glanced up as he realized they were talking about him, and probably Russell too. Izumi was looking over at him and he ducked his head and took another bite of his food.

"Yes, he was," Izumi said after a moment, and Fletcher felt the need to glance back at her. "It's not my responsibility to report Edward's dealings to you, Alphonse. If he didn't call you himself then that's his business." A pause. "Am I your nanny now? If you want to talk to him, then take the initiative to do so."

Fletcher shivered and took another bite of his food. His teacher sure was scary sometimes...

"What do you want, Alphonse? Why did you call?" she said, not sounding very happy

There was a longer pause, then, "Really? Well, congratulations!" Congratulations? Fletcher glanced back and saw that Izumi was smiling now. "I approve of your choice." Another pause. "And when will the wedding be?"

Fletcher blinked. Wedding? Al getting married? He looked at Sig who returned his glance. The big man didn't seem very surprised, but then Fletcher had found that Sig was just that way...

"I see. Well, you should decide on a date," Izumi was saying and Fletcher glanced back at her. "We'll try, but..." Izumi pressed her lips together. "We're having some... issues... with the military here right now. They're making it a little difficult to travel out of the area."

Fletcher nodded. He remembered the meeting with the military. It had been frightening how that military man, Colonel Olsen, had laid out the rules and punishments like killing someone for a small offense was nothing. He'd assured them that if they cooperated everything would be fine, but Fletcher hadn't felt that everything would be fine.

It was then that they'd brought out a man who belonged to the People's Army, and had publicly executed him right there. Fletcher had cried because he couldn't help but think that if Russell was there, he'd be in so much danger... He couldn't bear to think of his brother in danger.

"I see," Izumi said, interrupting Fletcher's thoughts. "So the military is in Rizembool as well." To this Fletcher stood quickly. He gripped the table and bit his lip in worry. If the military was in Rizembool, then Russell was in danger! "Sit down and eat your breakfast!" Izumi barked at him.

"But..." Fletcher whined. Instead of speaking, Izumi's eyes narrowed, making Fletcher shrink back down into his chair. His heart was beating wildly and his appetite was completely gone.

"I expect you'll be careful," Izumi said into the phone, ignoring Fletcher's pleading look. "It would be better if you didn't associate yourself with the rebellion or anyone from it, yes."

Fletcher whimpered. She wasn't telling Al to kick Russell out, was she?

There was another long pause, then, "I agree with Winry, but that is between you and her." More silence, then she said, "It was good talking to you as well," before hanging up the phone. She stared at the phone silently with a serious look on her face before glancing over at Fletcher.

"Eat!" she commanded and walked back to her chair.

Fletcher contemplated asking her some questions, but decided to wait until later. With a heavy heart and fear welled up within him, Fletcher took a bite of his food, and tried not to worry about Russell too much.


	37. Responsibility

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

**Responsibility**

**-  
**Riza hurried after Ed, wondering exactly what he was up to. It was still too early for the meeting, yet the kid was walking down the hall with such determination that people were scrambling to get out of his way.

Out of the corner of her eye, Riza saw Havoc catch up with her. She turned her head to glance at him and he gave her a questioning look. She shrugged to let him know that she was in the dark on this as well. He scowled and she simply shook her head. Ed was their commanding officer, and he'd ordered them to follow him; Lieutenant Havoc may not like it, but that's the way it was.

She sighed slightly and hurried her pace to keep up with Ed. Havoc had called her several times since... since that night... but she hadn't been able to get herself to answer his calls or to return them. What happened had torn her up. She should have stayed... should have convinced him to go home... should have refused to go along with his dangerous plans... should have...

Riza swallowed hard. She felt so _responsible_. If only...

Ed turned the corner quickly and there was a loud yell of surprise before he and someone else went down in a heap.

"I'm so sorry!" a female voice exclaimed.

Ed groaned, then looked up and said in surprise, "Sheska...?" before getting on his knees and helping her collect the books she'd dropped.

"I'm really sorry," she repeated, to which he told her that there was no need. After a couple minutes of each insisting it was their own fault, Riza stepped forward and held a hand out to help the girl up.

"Oh, thank you so much," the mousy girl said, taking her hand. Riza pulled her up, but when she was about to take her hand away, Sheska held on a little more tightly and said softly, "I heard what happened... I... I'm really sorry..."

Riza blinked her eyes at the sudden tears the condolences caused and thanked the girl, then her eyes flitted quickly to Ed. He was standing there, watching the exchange, with a heart wrenching look of grief.

It hurt her to see that look. Many knew that she and the colonel had been good friends for a long time, but no one knew of the relationship Ed and Roy had with each other. No one would know either. If they did, it could be disaster. She was pretty sure Ed understood this on an intellectual level, yet on an emotional level...

Riza was sure it hurt him to know that no such condolences would come his way. There really was nowhere Ed could go to share his grief. Even what had happened last night between Ed and her had been very mild; but then, they were the type to keep their pain to themselves except with one or two very close people. For Ed, those people were most likely his brother and the colonel. For her...

She squeezed Sheska's hand before letting go when Ed turned around and started walking. Again she and Havoc moved quickly to keep up with him. Riza glanced quickly at Havoc, then away.

It had been a long time since she'd let anyone hold her the way Havoc had held her that night... All of her close supports had long since died, and with her devotion to her job, Roy Mustang was the closest friend she'd had over the last few years; and even then, they really weren't that close...

Riza felt a small blush come to her cheeks and tried to force it away. The way Havoc had held her... he'd been so tender, so caring. It was embarrassing, but she felt grateful he'd been there. She'd been such a wreck that night.

She glanced quickly at him again as they turned a corner. It actually felt a little uncomfortable having to see him again. She had a feeling he was wanting a little more from her than just a co-worker relationship—or at least, that he'd like to take her out—and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

He was good-looking, but they worked together. That was never a good thing. She glanced at Ed and shook her head slightly. No, Havoc was a good man, but it wasn't going to happen. She didn't want to risk her career like the colonel had. Besides, she wasn't into kissing a mouth that tasted like an ashtray.

Suddenly, Riza blinked when she realized where they were headed and she began to feel a little wary.

"Ed?" she asked, but got no response from him.

She wanted to try engaging him in conversation again, but they'd already arrived at their destination. Instead of stopping to open the door respectfully as any normal, and _sane_, person would, Ed slammed open the door and marched through the doorway.

"Are you really sure you want to follow him in there...?" Havoc asked, sounding extremely nervous.

Riza took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No, she really didn't want to follow Ed in there. He was a time bomb waiting to go off right now and he had no idea what he was doing. Giving Havoc a look of both sympathy and frustration, Riza turned and followed Ed through the door.

* * *

Ed barged into the large room and stalked over to the woman seated at the desk. She was turned a little away from him and the phone was pressed to her ear. As he got closer, the woman hung the phone up and turned to look at him.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a slightly cool tone.

He stopped and stared at her for a moment. Ed had only seen the fuhrer's secretary a couple of times, but it never ceased to make him stop and stare at her when he did. She looked so damn much like his mother that it caused his chest to constrict and his heart to hurt.

"I'm here to see the fuhrer," Ed said with a confidence he didn't feel.

"I don't believe you have an appointment," she said looking down at a ledger.

He flinched. An appointment... He hadn't thought of that... He quickly thought on what he should do. Should he try to make an appointment or should he insist on seeing the man right now? The seconds ticked on, yet the woman's expression never changed, she simply waited for the only answer he could give.

"You're right, I don't have an appointment," Ed finally said, and turned on his heel to head toward the large double doors that led to the fuhrer's office. "I'll only be a moment." Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he walked quickly across the large antechamber. This couldn't wait for some appointment that could be weeks in the future. He needed to talk to the man right now.

"You can't go in there," Ed heard the woman say behind him and again he was reminded of his mother, though this time it was an unpleasant memory of when he'd been scolded as a child. Reaching out his hand for the door handle, Ed stopped when it moved and the door opened. Military blue filled his view and Ed swallowed hard before looking up at Fuhrer Bradley.

For a moment, the older man seemed displeased, then his expression changed and he said lightly, "Fullmetal, this is definitely a surprise."

In that moment, Ed nearly lost his nerve. He was so tense and he suddenly had the worst craving for a cigarette that he'd ever had in his life. Yet, he was here. He was talking to the fuhrer; to leave now would probably mean he'd never get another chance.

"I'm here to speak with you on urgent business," Ed said more calmly than he felt.

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I have a few minutes, why don't you come inside," the man invited before turning and moving back into his office. Looking back at Hawkeye and Havoc, Ed beckoned to them before following the man.

* * *

Riza let her breath out slowly, then followed Ed into the fuhrer's office. She couldn't _believe_ what Ed had just done! You just don't barge in and _demand_ to see the fuhrer, let alone walk into his office unannounced. She glanced nervously at Havoc, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing, then let her gaze fall on the back of Ed's head.

"What brings you here, young man?" the fuhrer asked mildly as he situated himself behind his large desk.

Ed walked confidently to the man and said, "I would like to take over Mustang's duties while he's away."

Riza nearly gasped, but she refrained with an effort. Did Ed have _no_ idea what he was doing at all? She glanced at the fuhrer, who was studying Ed thoughtfully.

"As I recall," Fuhrer Bradley said. "Roy Mustang is a colonel; and you, Fullmetal, are only a major."

"Yes, that's correct," Ed said.

"Colonel Mustang's job requires at least a lieutenant colonel. You're not qualified to fill his position," the man said dismissively. "Your request is denied, major."

"Right now, I rank the highest among the colonel's staff," Ed pressed, and Riza thought she could have strangled him. It had been obvious enough by the fuhrer's tone that their meeting was over. Couldn't Ed see that he was lucky enough to have been invited into his office at all? Didn't Ed realize what problems he could cause if he said or did the wrong thing here?

The fuhrer raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips pulled down into a frown. Riza could see from those small gestures that the fuhrer wasn't pleased with how Ed was pushing this, but Ed continued, seemingly oblivious to both the fuhrer's demeanor and also the danger he was putting himself in. "Someone needs to do Mustang's job. Right now I have some small amount of authority to do a few things while the colonel isn't here, but there are many things that I don't have the authority to do."

"As I recall, General Hakuro is looking into filling Colonel Mustang's position as we speak," Fuhrer Bradley said.

"Yes, sir, I understand, but where is he going to find someone to do the job? With the war in the east, there are already many positions here in Central that are vacant. I'm here, and I can do the job. I don't want to take Mustang's place; I simply want to be sure that everything gets done in his absence."

"Do you really believe that Colonel Mustang is alive?" the fuhrer said flatly.

From Riza's point of view she could see Ed's eye's darken slightly with pain before he said, "Yes. I do."

Fuhrer Bradley eyed Ed up and down before saying, "You seem to be very loyal to Colonel Mustang."

Riza's eye twitched slightly and she desperately wanted to slap her hand over Ed's mouth and drag him bodily from the room before he made a huge mistake, but to do so would have been extremely suspicious. All she could do was watch in dismay as Ed answered the question.

"That's right," Ed said calmly.

The older man made a 'hmmmm' sound, then continued to study Ed silently. Riza felt her hands twitch at her sides and she was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm. She knew Ed meant well, but he was doing a good job at digging himself into his grave.

Finally, the fuhrer said in a low tone, "Very well, Fullmetal... I'll have my secretary send word to General Hakuro that you came to me and asked for the job." Riza could have groaned at that, and what the man said next did nothing to soothe her. "I'll also inform him that you've been promoted to lieutenant colonel seeing as how the position calls for at least that rank."

Ed blinked, then grinned. "Thank you, sir," he began, but was cut off.

"That does not mean I'm giving Colonel Mustang's brigade to you. You're filling in for his office job, not his military obligations. Also, I expect you to take the training meant for a lieutenant colonel. You should already have had it to be promoted, but I'm making an exception for you."

Ed frowned. "Training...?"

The older man leaned forward and gave the teen a hard look. "We're at the beginning of a _war_, Fullmetal. As a lieutenant colonel, you will be assigned your own battalion. You need to know what to do with it."

Riza glanced quickly at Havoc, then back to the fuhrer. State Alchemists generally didn't get promoted unless they also became part of the regular military as well—like Colonel Mustang had. State Alchemists were in a league of their own. They were the fuhrer's 'private army', so to speak. They had higher rank because of their abilities, but...

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard. If the fuhrer was talking so seriously about giving Ed his own battalion, the problems in the East were much worse than she had previously feared. Of course, with the way things were going, Ed might not live to see the war...

"Ah, yes, sir," Ed said, and though Riza could tell he was trying to be calm, his voice shook slightly and confusion was woven through his words. Of course he was confused, Ed probably never really understood that there was a difference between their every day office lives and the responsibilities of being a soldier. He'd always been able to run about free, doing his research and whatever jobs he was sent on.

"Dismissed," Fuhrer Bradley said in an emotionless tone that held no room for argument.

At that, both Riza and Havoc stood straight and snapped a sharp salute. For a moment, Ed just stood there, as if unsure what to do next, before glancing back at them. Quickly, he saluted too, then headed out of the office. With a sigh of relief and frustration, Riza followed him. That went very badly, and Ed didn't even realize it...

* * *

Kyle (1) yawned and shifted on his feet. Supposedly it was a good thing that he'd been asked to be one of Kagegkuski's runners, but so far it was just boring. All the man did was have meetings and wander around talking to people and write things up... He sighed and stared dully at the big man. If he was lucky, Kagegkuski actually had something for him to do, but usually not... Just like now.

Shifting his weight again, Kyle thought longingly of his home back in Youswell. It hadn't been all that much, but their inn had been home to him. Everyone suspected that the town was dying, but all the miners tried to hold on, tried to make it last...

With the help of Ed Elric all those years ago, they'd finally been able to get the mines back from the military; they'd been able to regain their pride... Many people in the East called Ed "The Hero of the People", and they had good right to. He was the only one in the military who was willing to stand up for something right...

What he'd done for the town, what he'd done for his family by restoring their inn... In that day he'd become Kyle's personal hero, along with his brother Al who'd saved his life, the night Lieutenant Loki had ordered their inn to be destroyed...

Unfortunately, Ed Elric hadn't been there when the military had decided to destroy their town. The government had gotten word that they had been supplying rebels with coal, back when the rebellion was helping Lior and wasn't yet The People's Government, and they'd come down on the small mining town with a vengeance.

The men had urged the women to run while they tried to fight, and the women had begged the men to flee with them. There had been a big debate until they'd found out that the government was sending more than one small detachment to 'deal with them'.

Most of the town fled, though some remained, thinking it better to surrender to the military than be forced to go somewhere where there was no guarantee of a roof over their heads and food to eat.

Kyle swallowed hard and blinked his eyes rapidly. They'd watched from the mountainside as their town burned to the ground. He'd hated the military then, but not so much as when they'd finally left and a few men had been sent to see if there was anything left. When the men had returned, they'd told in somber, horrified voices of the fate the remaining towns folk had faced. No details of how they'd been killed had been given, and no one had wanted them.

Suddenly the flap on Kagegkuski's tent opened and Kyle was pulled from his dark memories. A soldier walked in and held the flap open for an older, tanned-looking man with a little white hair on his head, white bushy eyebrows and a long white beard and mustache. He used a long walking stick and his faded yellow and red clothes were worn and ragged.

The next man to enter the tent was a tall, bald man. This one was even more tanned than the old man. The only hair the taller man had was a long, dark mustache. He wore a tight, dark shirt and a faded vermillion robe. A sash striped with yellow and black was draped over one of his shoulders.

Following that man, another soldier walked in and the tent flap was closed. Kyle couldn't tear his eyes away from the two strangely dressed men. He'd heard of these people, but he'd never actually _seen _one before...

Kagegkuski stood and made a small bow to the two men. "I would like to thank you for accepting my invitation," he said politely, then motioned to a couple of chairs. "Please sit. Can I get you anything to drink, or perhaps something to eat after your journey here?"

"No, thank you," the taller man said as he sat in one of the chairs.

Nodding, Kagegkuski sat, then thanked the soldiers before asking them to leave them. Kyle nodded a little. That was one of the reasons why the people loved Bartholomew Kagegkuski. He was a good man. He treated everyone well, yet he was passionate about what he believed and willing to fight for it...

"Why have you asked us here?" the younger, tanned man asked.

Kagegkuski smiled a little. "To the point... Well, then I will be too. I would like to invite your people to join with my people."

The men were silent for a moment, and then the old man said, "We do not fight. It is not our way. If you are looking for recruits, you will have to look elsewhere."

"You misunderstand," Kagegkuski said mildly. "I have no desire to ask you or your people to defy what you believe in. I know the people of Ishbal are peaceful. If you were to join with us, we would protect you from the persecution of the military."

"And why would you do such a thing?" the old man asked again. "Surely it would take resources you do not have to protect us."

Kagegkuski nodded. "I had hoped that if we protected you, then your people would be willing to help supply us with things that we need. Food and clothing are only the beginning of things we need. We could give you lands in the heart of the East and you would be protected you while you peaceably grew food and made clothing for our soldiers." He paused, then said, "We also have women and children in our camps. They do the best they can to help, but..." Kagegkuski stopped when there was a small tap on the flap of the tent door.

"Come," Kagegkuski said loudly.

The flap was moved aside and a young teen about Kyle's age walked in and made a small salute. "I'm here to replace your runner."

Kagegkuski nodded and turned his attention back to his guests. With a sigh, Kyle headed for the flap. He was interested to know what the Ishbalans would say, but he knew better than to try to stick around. Letting himself out of the tent, Kyle waved to the two soldiers guarding the tent before heading in the direction his family was camped.

* * *

Ed walked down the hall feeling slightly relieved and elated. That had gone so well! He'd gotten permission _and_ he'd been promoted! He'd been so worried that he wouldn't be able to convince the fuhrer, but he had! Without warning, he was grabbed and thrown against the wall.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Ed raged angrily as Havoc stepped in front of him.

"I'd like to ask the same thing of you!" Havoc returned, just as angrily.

"I'm doing what I need to!" Ed returned with a growl. What was Havoc's problem? Why was he yelling at him? "I don't—"

"Stop this!" Hawkeye snapped. Pressing her fingers to her forehead, Riza looked at Ed and sighed before saying, "Ed..."

"No!" he shouted, angry that she seemed to be taking Havoc's side. "_I'm_ in charge and that's what I decided to do."

"You little son-of-a-bitch!" Havoc snarled and slammed his hand against the wall near Ed's head. "Why the hell didn't you tell us you were going to do that?!"

Ed slid around the taller man and glared at them both as he straightened his uniform. "Because, _Lieutenant,_ I work on a need to know basis, and _you_ didn't need to know." Havoc's eyes widened and he took a step forward as if he wanted to get into a fight with Ed, but Hawkeye stepped forward and grabbed ahold of him.

Voice tight, Ed said, "The two of you are dismissed for now, but I expect you to be at the meeting today." With that said, Ed turned on his heel and stalked down the hall.

* * *

Winry tightened the bolt on the piece of automail she was working on, the wiped her arm against her forehead. She'd spent a lot of work on this piece and it was really paying off. Finishing a job was probably one of her favorite things about working with automail because she got to see it all come together.

Her eyes slid from the automail to the ring Al had made her. Smiling, Winry turned her hand slightly so that the metal glinted in the light. She loved the ring, and loved the fact that Al was so aware of what she liked that he'd made it for her. She only wished that there was something she could do for him...

Humming to herself, Winry placed a cloth over the automail and turned to leave the room but stopped short and gasped when she saw someone in the doorway.

"You do very good work," Russell said smoothly.

Winry tried to smile, but she was sure it came out as a grimace. "Eh... thanks..."

"Do you mind if I come in and take a look?" he asked while letting himself in anyway.

"Actually, I'm finished for now," she said and watched as he shut the door. "I have things to do, but perhaps I can show you another time." It was a lie. She had no intention of showing him her work _any_time. Walking to the door, Winry said, "Excuse me."

Russell moved, and, as she started to reach for the doorknob, his hand pressed against the door by her. When she turned, he placed his other arm on her other side, pinning her between him and the door.

"I want you to move. _Now_," she growled.

"Alphonse is lucky to have you..." he said quietly.

"I'm lucky to have him too. Now move."

Russell smiled a little and said, "It's too bad he doesn't trust you."

She narrowed her eyes and said, "Yes, he does."

"Oh? Really... Why does he tell you not to go to town without him? Why is he always keeping an eye on you or wanting you to tell him what you're doing? It sounds like he's trying to control you..."

Winry scowled. She and Al had already had several discussions about this and it was still a sore spot with her that he kept trying to coddle her. But whatever her feelings on the subject, it was none of Russell's business.

"He's trying to keep me safe from certain people. He means well," she said tightly.

"But you don't like it. I can tell," Russell said with a small grin, then moved his hand down to caress her hair. "I personally agree with Alphonse. Weak women like yourself shouldn't be let out. Who knows what could happen to you." Winry growled angrily, but when she tried to speak, he just talked over her. "Though I don't know what you'll do when you don't have him here to look out for you.

"He's not going _anywhere_!" she said, and angrily moved her head away from his touch.

"We need him. He's very... important... to us. He _will_ come with me when I leave," Russell said with a small smirk.

Pushing him out of her way, Winry opened the door and stormed out of the room. Al _would not_ go with him. She knew he wouldn't. And she _could_ go wherever she wanted! It wasn't like Al was her boss!

* * *

Ed reached out to open the door, but at the yelling from within the office, he simply let his hand rest on the doorknob. It was obvious that the other officers were arguing... and arguing about him... The urge to turn around and leave was strong, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, Ed took a deep breath and let himself into the room.

When he stepped inside, the noise died and Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, and Falman all turned to look at him. It seemed that Breda and Havoc were the ones who had been yelling—their faces were flushed and they were looking at him with blatant anger—and Hawkeye and Falman had been trying to be the voices of reason.

As the seconds ticked on, Ed felt increasingly nervous. His palms started to sweat and suddenly the uniform seemed too constricting. Ed worked to keep himself emotionless and calm as he said, "Good, you're all here. We can start then."

He walked over to Roy's desk, then paused as he tried to decide whether he should sit behind the desk or if he should stand in front of the desk and lean against it. Roy often did both, but...

Quickly, he decided that standing in front would be best. It seemed less formal, plus he felt that, with him standing and them sitting, it would give him a little more... well... _something_... At least he'd be taller than them...

After situating himself in front of the desk, Ed let his eyes move over their faces and he felt his mouth go dry. How did Roy do it? They were looking at him so expectantly... and unhappily. Roy probably never had to deal with that...

Taking a deep breath, Ed tried to remember everything that was supposed to happen in these weekly meetings and he suddenly wished he would have paid more attention... He watched as Breda plucked a doughnut from the box on the coffee table, then said flatly, "Congratulations on your promotion, _Lieutenant Colonel._"

Breda slowly bit into the doughnut and chewed deliberately as he stared reproachfully up at him. Ed pressed his lips together in anger. There was no missing the contemptuous sarcasm that dripped from the man's words.

Ed wanted to start cursing the man, but he held his tongue. Roy wouldn't let insults get to him. Roy would be calm and he'd simply deal with the situation in a detached sort of way.

"Well, thank you," Ed said tightly. He was going to be like Roy. He wasn't going to let things get to him...

Scowling, Breda sat forward and said angrily, "Do you have any idea—"

"Lieutenant," Hawkeye said in a low voice.

He clenched his teeth and stared at her before saying, "He's not a child, stop babying him."

She drew in a sharp breath and said, "You're going about it the wrong way."

"Well, then at least he won't be alone!" Breda growled, and Ed could see that Havoc was nodding angrily.

"_I_ will handle this," she said tightly. They didn't argue, but then, of course they wouldn't. She outranked them... Turning to him, she said, "Edward... listen... We really need to talk to you about what happened today." He could tell she was trying to be calm and polite, but her voice was strained. "You really went about it the wrong—"

"Why?" Ed interrupted. "Because now I'm officially over all of you and you can't use me?"

Havoc opened his mouth to say something, but Riza held up her hand to cut him off. Trying to remain patient, she said, "No. The fact that you have more authority actually works for us as a whole."

Folding his arms, Ed frowned and said defensively, "Okay, fine, then how was it bad?" He was starting to lose what little control he had on his anger and he gripped his arms tightly in an effort to stay calm.

"First of all, your raise in rank is going to earn you a _lot_ of enemies. The colonel's quick climb of the ranks has made many people resent him, and he was older than you when he reached the rank of lieutenant colonel."

She paused, then said, "When you became a state alchemist the news spread like a wildfire; I don't expect it to be less so with you becoming a lieutenant colonel. By the end of today, _everyone_ is going to know that you were promoted."

She paused, then said, "Do you remember what the fuhrer said? He said that he'd let General Hakuro know that you asked for this. The fuhrer wasn't very pleased with what you did, Ed. Not only will Hakuro hate you for being promoted, but he'll also be furious that you went over his head. The proper way to do things would have been to go see him first."

Ed swallowed hard. He wanted to rage at her, but the words were stuck in his throat. What she said made sense. He hadn't even thought of that...

"Also, when the fuhrer asked about your loyalty to Colonel Mustang..." She paused, looking very troubled. "Ed... he'll be watching you from now on... A soldier should be loyal to the military and to the fuhrer. Loyalty to a superior officer should only be because they're in the chain of command, not because of who they are. What you said today... well, let me just say that you've earned yourself some very powerful adversaries... You've made yourself a target in something that you don't really understand."

Ed swallowed. The king... he'd made himself the king... Ed wanted to bury his head in his hands, he wanted to hide, but instead he worked to keep his face impassive.

"Ed..." Hawkeye said in a pleading voice. "You need to trust us. You need to let us help you..."

"I don't see why we should help him," Breda said angrily. "If he wants to go it alone, fine. I don't want to be dragged down by his stupidity."

"That's fine, because I don't trust you anyway," Ed snarled, completely forgetting that he wanted to try to be more like Roy. "Trust goes both ways, you asshole! You just wanted to use me! You didn't trust _me_, so why the fuck should I have trusted you?"

"There's a _reason_ why we don't trust you," Havoc said contemptuously. "You act without thinking! You're smart, but do you actually _use_ those brains of yours?! Don't you understand that this isn't some sort of game?"

Hawkeye turned and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but Havoc man stood up and growled, "I'm not staying in this sorry excuse for a meeting another minute."

"I didn't say you could leave," Ed barked angrily, but Havoc simply walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Standing up, Breda began following Havoc, then he stopped, turned around, and grabbed the box of doughnuts before stalking out the door.

There was silence in the office for a moment before Falman cleared his throat and said, "Permission to be excused...?"

"Yeah, whatever..." Ed said in frustration, then watched as the man quickly left the room.

"Ed..." Hawkeye said hesitantly.

"Just leave me alone," Ed said in hurt anger, then stalked past her and out of the office. He needed to go outside. He needed to think. He needed a fucking smoke... He hadn't even left the building before he was pulling out a cigarette.

_Those bastards..._ Ed thought angrily, then stopped to light the cigarette when he was finally outside. He was so angry. _He_ was the one who had put his neck on the line by going to the fuhrer. Hawkeye even admitted that him being a higher rank was better for them. So what if he became a target? It's not like _they_ were the ones who were in danger.

Ed puffed hard and fast on the cigarette as he stalked across the lawn, but stopped when he heard his name called. Turning, he saw Lieutenant Havoc striding toward him with a furious look on his face.

Folding his arms, Ed waited. When Havoc was to him he cocked back his fist. Ed only had time for his eyes to widen at the realization that Havoc really meant to hit him before the blow landed.

Ed staggered and fell back with a hard thump. He felt a pain in his eye and cheek where Havoc's fist had connected with his face. His teeth bit his cigarette in two, and he quickly sat up and spat it out before scrambling to his feet and assuming a fighting posture.

"You can't hit me!" Ed yelled, looking at him through only one eye now. "I'm your commanding officer!"

"Well, apparently I _did_ just hit you, so I guess I can!" Havoc returned mockingly. "Go ahead, report me. I don't give a rat's ass. I know that you could probably beat the shit out of me too, so sure, why not go ahead and do that as well?"

Right now, Ed felt very much like taking his anger out on something, and if Havoc was volunteering, then he'd be happy to grant his request. He was about to rush forward when the man's next words stopped him.

"You interfering son-of-a-bitch. If it hadn't been for you, then the colonel would still be here. It's _your _fault that this happened! It's your fault, and now you're going to get the rest of us killed with your irresponsible stupidity!"

Ed felt a stab of pain in his chest and he swallowed hard before saying, "I wasn't even here! How is it my fault?" It wasn't his fault... It couldn't be...

"That's right, you weren't here. I think that was part of the problem!" Havoc snarled.

"What do you mean by that?" Ed said defensively. Havoc was just being an ass... It wasn't his fault...

The taller man stared at him for a long time before saying in a low voice, "Do you know what the colonel's last words were before he passed out?"

"Like I said, I wasn't there, so, no. Obviously I have no idea what he said," Ed answered tightly.

Havoc's face crumpled a little in pain before he said in a hoarse whisper, "He thought Hawkeye was you... He said, 'I love you... Ed...'"

Ed's eyes widened in shock and, letting his hands fall, stumbled backward a couple of steps. Roy... loved him...? That's what he'd said? A torrent of emotions raged inside of him; amazement that Roy loved him, shock that Havoc knew, bitter despair because of all the time he'd wasted by being gone and being angry...

"If he hadn't been so obsessed with you, then maybe he'd still be here now," Havoc said, pain lacing his voice. "So you see, this isn't a game. Every move you make needs to be carefully considered because it affects us too! If you want to be treated with respect, then you have to _earn_ it..." Ed stared at Havoc in stunned silence for a few moments, then watched as the man turned around and started walking away, leaving Ed alone with his thoughts.

* * *

1 – Kyle is the son of the innkeeper in Episode 9. His father has already made a slight appearance in this story in chapter 12.


	38. Reflection

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

**Reflection**

**-  
**"Well, kid, that's one nasty bruise you have there," the military doctor said as he examined Ed's face.

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," Ed growled. It had only been a few minutes after Havoc had walked off that Hawkeye had come running up to him. She'd grabbed his face and quickly inspected it before demanding to know what had happened.

He'd still been too stunned over what Havoc had said to answer her immediately. Roy? Love him? Him? _Love_? It was almost too much to comprehend. All that time he'd been gone, and even before, Ed had wondered exactly what, if anything, Roy felt for him. Whatever it was that Ed had imagined, or even hoped, it hadn't been love. Roy didn't seem like the type...

Hawkeye had demanded that Ed visit the medical floor to be sure everything was fine, but at that moment, Ed had realized that Havoc hadn't been the only one who'd been with Mustang that night.

'Why didn't you _tell _me?' he'd pleaded. To that, she'd simply looked at him. Anger had filled him and, grabbing onto her uniform, he'd yelled, "You were there! You heard him! But you didn't tell me!" Hurt had wormed its way through the anger and tears gathered at his eyes. "I trusted you," Ed had breathed, feeling betrayed.

"Ed..." she'd said quietly. "You don't understand. I was waiting... I..."

"No!" he'd yelled, then stood so that he was looking down at her. "You never wanted us together in the first place! You're only acting like you're on my side, but then you hide things from me and let people use me!"

Her face had taken on a hurt look and she shook her head quickly, "Ed, you don't understand. I'm not against you. I want to help you—"

But he hadn't wanted to listen to her. He'd been so furious and hurt. "Just shut the fuck up!" he yelled angrily. "Just..." he'd said with a quieter voice. He'd begun backing away, not really sure where he was going to go, but not wanting to stay there. "Just leave me alone..." he'd said in a half snarl, half sob.

Ed couldn't remember the time from that point to when he'd ended up on the floor that held the medical unit. But since he was there, he'd decided to at least get some ice for his eye, which was now swollen shut and throbbing painfully.

"Well, until you hit twenty-five, you're still a kid," the doctor answered, interrupting Ed's memories, then began scribbling something on a notepad. "And even then, that's questionable."

"Yeah, well, I have a _name_," Ed pressed, not pleased with the dark-haired doctor calling him 'kid'.

"I'm well aware of that," the doctor said, then used a finger to push his glasses up a little before looking at Ed. "Look, kid, you might not like it, but I'm the only one here to see you right now, given that all those who are usually here are in a staff meeting. I'm generally not here because I do mostly autopsies now, but you just happened to be lucky."

"You didn't _have_ to examine me," Ed bit back. "I just came for some ice."

The doctor looked up, but before he had a chance to say anything, the door opened and another doctor walked into the room. He seemed surprised to see them both, but quickly recovered and said, "Doctor Knox(1), what are you doing up here in the land of the living?"

"Being reminded of why I work only with the dead," he returned wryly, then looked at Ed. "It seems like nothing was permanently injured, though you should give this office, or your regular doctor, a call if you notice any drainage or increased redness. Also watch for any changes in your vision or persistent eye pain." He paused, then said, "Or bleeding or any abnormalities."

The doctor—Doctor Knox—scribbled something else on the notepad, then looked up at Ed and continued, "Use cold compresses on it for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, then switch to applying warm ones intermittently. That should help your body reabsorb the leakage of blood and may help reduce any discoloration."

"Fine... can I go now?" Ed grumbled ungraciously.

He scowled when the other doctor said jovially, "He's just as pleasant as you, Knox."

Doctor Knox paid the other doctor no mind and said quietly, "Policy says you have to report exactly what happened." He paused, glanced up at Ed, and studied him silently.

Ed frowned and narrowed his eyes. What would happen if he reported what actually occurred? He knew there were rules against hitting your commanding officer, something about respect, but he'd never taken the time to find out about them or the consequences... Should he report Havoc? He wanted to, mostly because he felt angry and vindictive, but for some reason he just didn't feel right about it...

"Let me guess," Knox said blandly. "You walked into a door." Ed frowned and blinked a couple times before he realized the man didn't believe that at all. Giving a short and curt nod, he kept quiet and waited. The doctor nodded and wrote something down on the notepad before saying, "You can leave now." He paused then said, "Try to stay out of fistfights."

"Yeah, whatever..." Ed muttered, pressing the icepack against his eye, then quietly said, "Thanks..." For whatever reason, Knox was covering his ass, but Ed wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. When Knox nodded, Ed walked out of the room, then looked both ways down the hall. He could go back to Mustang's... his... office, or he could go outside and have a smoke.

Deciding on the smoke, Ed hurried out of the building through the back entrance and sat on one of the steps. _Stupid Havoc..._ Ed thought as he fumbled in his pocket for the pack with the hand not holding the icepack, but when he pulled it out, Ed saw that it was empty.

With a heavy sigh, Ed dropped the empty cigarette pack at his feet and stared dully at it. Nothing had turned out how he'd thought it would; not that he'd thought that everything would be perfectly fine if he got the fuhrer to agree with him, but he'd thought that maybe Roy's staff would see that he could do things on his own. Perhaps they'd see that they didn't need to use him...

He scowled at the empty cigarette pack. Well, whatever... He didn't need them anyway. He could do this on his own. He wasn't a child anymore after all... Digging out his watch, Ed glanced at the time, then looked around. It was still early, but he wasn't quite ready to head back to the office. The last thing he wanted was to answer questions right now, and besides, he needed to buy another pack of smokes. Ed bit gently on his bottom lip trying to think of a good excuse to go missing for an hour or two...

* * *

Vato Falman flipped through the files Major Armstrong had given him as he walked down the hall. He'd need to go through them as quickly as possible so that the major could return them from where he'd 'borrowed' them before anyone noticed. Stopping next to the door that lead to the small research room near the colonel's office, Vato absentmindedly reached out to open it. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and wondered if it would be more correct to think of the office as Colonel Mustang's or as Ed's. And now that Ed was officially his boss, Vato wondered if perhaps he should think of him as...

"You going to just stand there all day?" a voice said behind him.

Vato blinked and turned to see Breda, then said, "Oh, sorry, Lieutenant, I was just thinking," then opened the door and let himself inside.

Breda merely grunted and when they were inside, Vato took a seat at the end of the long research table, then looked over to where Breda was sitting down beside him.

"So... how's it coming?" Breda asked unhappily. Vato shrugged and slid the folder over to his redheaded coworker. He watched as Breda halfheartedly flipped through the pages.

Tapping his fingers silently on the table, Vato stared at Breda for a few minutes, thinking about the meeting they'd just had before finally saying, "You have to admit, Ed has guts."

"Yeah, and they're going to end up splattered all over if he's not careful," Breda growled at the folder.

Vato glanced at the folder, then said mildly, "Maybe someone should talk to him."

"I _already_ talked to him," Breda snapped.

"What did you say to him?" Vato asked, glancing up from the folder and giving Breda a pointed look. Instead of speaking, Breda simply glared down at the folder, and, after a moment, Vato said, "It's not like you to miscalculate, but you did this time, didn't you?"

There was silence for a moment, then Breda said, "Yeah... Yeah, I did." His tone was filled with frustration and regret.

Reaching out, Vato took the folder. "What do you plan on doing about it?" He knew that Breda was stubborn, almost as stubborn as Ed, but he had a feeling that Breda would put his pride aside for the greater good. Ed might as well, but Vato wasn't sure. He just didn't know Ed well enough to say how Ed might possibly act. But then, he didn't think he was the only one who didn't know Ed as well as perhaps they should.

Before Breda had a chance to answer, the door burst open and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked—almost stalked—into the room.

"Have you seen Lieutenant Havoc?" she asked in a demanding voice.

"Why?" Breda asked, and Vato raised an eyebrow at the man's bravery. He didn't like questioning women when they were angry, especially not Lieutenant Hawkeye. If she wanted information, then he gave what he could and hoped that would be enough to escape any wrath.

She opened her mouth, but at that moment, Havoc appeared in the doorway and said blandly, "I think half the building knows you're looking for me." When he was in the room, Hawkeye moved over to the doorway, stuck her head out into the hall and looked both ways, then slammed the door shut before rounding on the taller man.

"I want to know what your problem is," she demanded.

"_My_ problem?" Havoc asked in disbelief, his eye's widening a little and his features taking on a surprised look.

"Yes, your problem. You've had a problem with Ed all day, that much is obvious, but punching him in the face was unacceptable and childish."

Vato sighed and shook his head. That was not going to make the situation better at all. He glanced at Breda, who looked back at him with a frown. Turning his attention back to the two by the door, Vato waited to see how this would play out.

Havoc scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not the only one who has been childish. He—"

"He is _seventeen_!" she said in exasperation. "You..." She turned and looked at Breda. "And _you_..." she said pointedly before looking back at Havoc. "Are an _adult_. _Both_ of you are adults! I want you to _act_ like it!"

"Hey, don't drag me into this," Breda said, looking offended, but quieted when Hawkeye glared at him.

Taking a deep breath, Havoc said calmly, "Maybe you should go home..."

"Excuse me?" she said in disbelief.

"You just seem... Well, perhaps it would be better if you took a few more days to yourself," Havoc said kindly, and Vato was impressed by how smooth the man was being. Unfortunately, 'smooth' didn't work with Riza Hawkeye. Vato had seen the colonel try it enough without results that he wondered why Havoc hadn't realized that yet.

Hawkeye pressed her lips together and stared at him in silence for a moment before saying, "I'm not going home, and you _will_ tell me what your problem is, that is an _order._"

The concerned expression on Havoc's face changed to one of anger. "Fine. You want to know what my problem is? I'll tell you what my problem is. My _problem_ is what the colonel said that night. My problem is that you didn't even seem surprised at all. Exactly how long have you known?"

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before she said, "That's what your problem is?"

"Don't act so surprised. There's a reason why that's forbidden in the military. It only causes problems, and as you can see, we have one hell of a problem. If Ed hadn't been distracting the colonel, then maybe things would have turned out differently!"

"You can't blame this on Ed!" she said in shocked disbelief.

Vato heard Breda clear his throat, then say, "In my opinion, it's actually the colonel who's at fault." At that, both Hawkeye and Havoc turned to look at him. Vato glanced at Breda in time to see him shrug. "I'm not saying I like it, but as far as I'm concerned the colonel is a grown man. Ed's just a kid. I don't know all the details, but I think that if anyone is to blame, it's Mustang."

"So, what? Everyone around here knew about this but me?" Havoc asked angrily.

"No, I just found out yesterday when I went to talk to Ed." Breda paused then grimaced. "Let's just say a picture is worth a thousand words..."

"I don't even want to know..." Havoc said and put a hand over his eyes.

Riza folded her arms and gave Breda a pointed look. "Is that your problem as well?"

Breda shook his head. "_My_ problem is that Ed went about this all the wrong way. My problem is that he's being a little shit. My problem is that if he keeps going the way he is, he's going to end up hurt, dead, or missing. He needs to consider all the factors, and he needs to act more mature. What he does with his personal life, well..." Breda reached up and scratched at his hair looking a little embarrassed. "I don't like it, but that's not why I was mad."

Vato glanced at the three of them in confusion before saying, "I think I'm missing something here..."

There was silence in the room as the other three officers looked at each other. Finally, Riza sat down on one of the chairs and said, "The less people who know about this, the better, but I don't know that we can keep this from you if we all know." She glanced from Breda, who nodded, to Havoc who shook his head and muttered darkly to himself, then back to him. With another sigh, she began to speak and as he listened, Vato realized with growing awkwardness that he was learning much more about Roy Mustang and Edward Elric than he ever wanted to know.

* * *

Kain Fuery stared dully up at the hospital ceiling wondering how many more tests the doctors were going to do on him. How much longer were they going to keep him here? It wasn't really that he _wanted _to leave; on the contrary, he was a little nervous at the thought. Everything was set in the hospital. He knew what to expect. He knew the doctors and the nurses who took care of him and he even knew some of the other patients.

When they let him out, he'd have to face the cold reality that everything that he'd known before was gone. He'd return to a dorm—he'd been told he lived in a dorm—that was his, but that he didn't remember; to a job that he'd been in for years, but didn't understand, and he'd be expected to interact with people who knew him, but who he could only scrape up feelings of vague recollection.

Roy Mustang had told him that he'd help him. He'd told him that he would make sure he had a job to go back to and that he would protect him, but now Roy was gone. Something bad had happened to him and now Kain wasn't sure what to expect...

He blinked when a knock on the door met his ears. He sat up a little and said, "Come in...?"

The door opened and the head of Ed Elric popped in. "Hey... I came to see how you're doin'."

Kain smiled a little and waved him in as he situated himself into a more comfortable sitting position. He'd heard a lot about Ed from Roy. Kain wasn't sure if Roy was even aware of how much he talked about the boy, but it didn't bother him. When Ed had come to see him last night, Kain almost felt like he actually did know him and he'd felt pretty comfortable with him.

"I brought this," Ed said as he shut the door and held up the chess set. "You up for another game?"

"Sure," Kain said happily, then frowned when he saw how bruised and swollen Ed's eye was. "What happened?" he asked in concern.

Ed gave him a small smile and said, "I walked into a door," as he took a seat near the bed.

"Must have been some door..." Kain murmured as Ed began to set the game up.

"Yeah, it was. I didn't even see it coming..." Ed said quietly, then said more cheerfully, "But don't worry, I have this!" He held up an icepack as if that would suddenly cure the injury. "It only looks bad, but it doesn't even hurt."

Kain raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was obvious Ed was lying about it not being painful, but he decided not to talk about it anymore since Ed was trying to blow the subject off. Turning his attention to the board, Kain shook his head before reaching out and changing the rook and the bishop around.

To that, Ed made a little sound of frustration. "I don't know why I keep doing that," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it," Kain said lightly and motioned for Ed to make the first move. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah, but my mistakes usually cause other people problems..."

"Well..." Kain said as he made his first move. "I suppose what's important is that we learn from our mistakes, right?"

"I guess, but sometimes things can't be undone... Sometimes we just have to live with it..."

Kain looked up and frowned deeply, then said, "I know about things that can't be undone. This..." He tapped lightly on his head. "Can't be undone. My skull is fixed, but inside..." He shook his head. The doctors said there was a small chance he could regain his memory, but he had a feeling they were telling him that so that he'd have something to hope for. "But other things _can_ be undone. It just depends on how much you want them to be undone."

Ed picked up one of his pawns and fingered it for a moment before setting it down on another spot. "It's not that simple..."

"Of course not," Kain said. "Not simple and not easy..." He picked up his bishop and pointed it at Ed. "But worth it in the end, right?" When Ed didn't say anything, Kain killed off one of Ed's pawns with the bishop and grinned at him.

Ed smirked and said, "So how about undoing that?"

Kain smiled broadly, happy to see Ed cheering up. "Not a chance."

* * *

Al mumbled softly to himself as he examined the array on the glove. He made note of something on a note pad, then slipped both of the gloves onto his hands. In the past month or so, Al had been working a lot with the gloves, though it was more of a pet project than anything else. He'd still had hopes that he could make a multi-purpose array, but the more he worked on it, the more he was beginning to think that it wasn't going to work.

"Hey," a voice said, and Al looked up to see Russell walk into the room.

"Russell," Al said in a mild greeting, then shifted his position on the floor.

Sitting down across from him, Russell nodded toward the papers and books scattered on the floor. "What are you working on? I see you in here for a couple hours every day, and my curiosity has gotten the better of me."

Al sighed, pulled the gloves off, and tossed them over to Russell. "I've been trying to make an array with a large assortment of purposes, but so far I've go nothing." He nodded at the gloves Russell was inspecting. "Along the way, I came up with that array."

The chemist glanced up at him, not looking very impressed. "What does it do?"

Al motioned for the gloves back. Taking a piece of paper, he folded it in half and then twisted the ends. Putting on the gloves, Al touched the paper and felt a piece of himself drain into the paper. He could feel himself become the paper in a way, and he was aware of the floor from where the paper was at. With little effort, Al made the paper move so that the ends of the twisted paper were making the paper 'stand', then he walked the paper over to where Russell was sitting.

"My soul is easily detachable. I'm able to transfer a part of myself into other objects for an unspecified amount of time." He turned his hands over so that his palms were facing up and stared at the arrays. The fact that he had the ability to transfer part of his soul into objects was pretty neat, but it was pretty useless as well...

Russell picked up the paper and examined it, and through the paper, Al was aware of how Russell was holding the paper and how much pressure he was using when he squeezed at the 'legs' of the twisted paper.

"Interesting," Russell murmured.

"You could say that," Al replied. "But it's pretty useless too." _Unless you wanted to do some really kinky stuff,_ Al thought and instantly looked down to hide the embarrassment he was suddenly feeling.

"I don't know if I'd say it was useless..."

Al shrugged. "It's great for entertaining people, I suppose."

Russell was quiet for a time before saying, "What is it like?"

Flexing and unflexing his hands, Al thought about it for a moment, then remembered how he'd explained it to Winry. "It's like... putting your hand into an empty jar. The transfer doesn't hurt or anything, it's just a... well, it's an awareness. I'm aware that I'm there and I'm aware that I'm here. I'm aware that you're holding that paper even if I'm not looking at it. It's not a really _strong_ awareness. It just... well, it just is."

"Hmm..." Russell studied the paper in his hands again, then said softly, "But, what if the jar wasn't empty?"

Al's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Russell held up the paper and said, "This is just a piece of paper. There's nothing there. You said that it was like putting your hand into an empty jar. Well, what if the jar wasn't empty?"

Al's mouth went dry as he suddenly realized what Russell was alluding to. "I could never try this on something that was living, Russell. It just wouldn't be right. Besides, I have no idea what would happen."

"Even if a jar is filled with rice or beans, you can still stick your hand in it, right?" Russell said. "It just takes a little work."

Scowling, Al said, "I can't see any reason why I would ever _want_ to try to put my soul into anything that was alive. Besides, that would be messing around with human beings. That would be borderline to human alchemy, and that's forbidden." Even as he said it, he felt like a hypocrite, but he already knew that what he'd done in the past was wrong and he didn't want to repeat those mistakes.

"Think about it," Russell said eagerly. "Think about what a great weapon it would be if you could learn to control people from the inside!"

"I am _not_ a weapon!" Al snapped. "I have no desire to hurt anyone."

"But sometimes you have to hurt people to protect the ones you care about, right?" Russell said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Al exhaled forcefully through his nose, then said in frustration, "Of course, but I would rather solve things peacefully."

"That's not always an option," Russell shot back. "Why should you get to sit here all cooped up doing nothing, while people are out there fighting so that you can be happy and free? If you stay here, how far do you think the military will go to try forcing you to join them? You being here is putting people in danger! You're worried that Winry isn't safe to go out by herself, but why? Because people in the military are after _you_, because they want to force you into joining with them! If you left Rizembool, she would be a _lot_ safer."

Al swallowed painfully at the thought that he was putting Winry in danger because he was being stubborn. It was true that Archer did want him to join with them, and the man definitely had less than wholesome ways of going about things. He could leave. He could head to Central to find Ed. Winry wanted him to find his brother anyway, but would they try to recruit him there too?

He sighed miserably. This wasn't his war. He'd been fine with how the government was run before. Maybe it wasn't great, but it worked fine for him. Sure, a government run by the people was intriguing, but could it work? If there was a democratic government in place when the war was over, would it really be better than the one they already had?

Sighing, Al dropped his head into his hands. There were so many things going on, and yet there was no clear answer as to what was right and what was wrong... Finally, he looked up at Russell, who was staring silently at him, then pressed his lips together stubbornly. Well, one thing he did know for sure—he was never going to use alchemy to transfer his soul into a living thing. It was wrong, and he would _never_ do it.

Never.

* * *

1- From the manga.


	39. Reconciliation

-

**Descent**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

**Reconciliation**

**-  
**With the folded up chess set under one arm and the ice pack pressed against his eye, Ed strode purposefully down the hallway to Roy's... _his_... office. No... No, it was still Roy's office. He was just filling in for Roy. Roy would be back... Ed nodded to someone as they passed him and breathed out slowly. After getting himself another pack of smokes and visiting Fuery, Ed felt much more calm and ready to face things here...

"Fullmetal," someone barked behind him. Ed frowned at the voice and turned slowly to see Colonel Douglass's ugly face staring down at him. Just the sight of the man dissipated any calm feelings he'd had and anger filled him. He suddenly had the most pressing need to do to the smartass colonel exactly what Havoc had done to him.

"What do you want?" Ed growled, then winced as the ice pack he was pressing against his eye—a new one given to him by one of the hospital nurses—pressed harder than was comfortable.

"As you know, I'm investigating what happened with Colonel Mustang, and I want some information from you," Douglass said with an air of self-importance that made Ed seethe even more.

"Okay, fine," Ed shot back angrily. "But only if you give me some information. I want to know if Mustang is alive or not; and, if so, where he is!"

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands," Douglass said menacingly, then took a step forward. Ed knew this was supposed to be an intimidating gesture, but he didn't feel intimidated at all. He felt _pissed_.

Standing his ground, Ed pulled the icepack away from his face and pointed it at Douglass. "Oh really? I thought you wanted information from me." He was _totally_ in a position to make demands. If the colonel thought he was going to get what he wanted without some sort of exchange, he was wrong.

Douglass's face took on a bland expression and he said, "Did the fuhrer _really_ make you a lieutenant colonel, or is that simply a rumor?"

Ed blinked and winced at the pain in his eye before replacing the icepack. How did he know? It had only been a few hours ago... But then he remembered what Hawkeye had said about information spreading. She'd said like a wild fire, but he'd thought it would be a few days at least... He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should give up that information. It wasn't as if it was really secret...

"That's right," Ed finally said. "He did make me a lieutenant colonel. Got a problem with that?"

"I think that much should be obvious," Douglass said wryly. "I know we're short on staff with what's going on in the East, but making a _child_ a lieutenant colonel is ridiculous."

Gritting his teeth, Ed ground out, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Like I said, information."

"Okay, fine. Answer my questions first. It's equivalent," Ed said stubbornly.

Douglass laughed humorlessly and said, "Do I look like an alchemist to you? I'm going to ask you some questions, and you_ will_ answer them because I rank higher than you. You'll answer them because it's an order; got that, _lieutenant colonel?_"

Ed opened his mouth, ready to tell Colonel Douglass he could shove his orders up his ass, when Douglass's eyes moved beyond him and a moment later, Ed heard behind him, "I think I might have the answers you're looking for, colonel."

Spinning around, Ed came face to face—or as near as he could, given the height differences—with Lieutenant Breda. The red-headed man's eyes flitted over Ed's face for a moment, over his injured eye really, then looked away from Ed and back to Douglass.

"I've kept an eye out as you requested, and I also did a little questioning and research of my own."

Ed scowled darkly at Breda, then turned to glare at Douglass before turning back to Breda and exclaiming, "So what? You were working for _him_? What the fuck?!"

"That's the way it works in the military, _brat_," Douglass said snidely. "Those of lower rank obey those with higher rank. If you're going to climb the ranks, then you'd better get used to sticking that little nose of yours up a lot of asses."

Snarling, Ed turned around to face him, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off. Ed opened his mouth, but Douglass turned his gaze from him and addressed Breda.

"Come to my office later today with your report."

"Yes, sir," Breda said smartly.

Douglass looked at Ed seriously and said, all trace of smugness gone, "I'll be keeping an eye on you," before turning around and starting down the hall.

_What a fucking bastard!_ Ed thought, and was about to loudly let Douglass know exactly what was on his mind when he felt Breda's hand on his shoulder again.

"Ed," Breda said softly.

"Fuck you!" Ed spat as he turned around and knocked the man's hand away with the one holding the icepack.

Pressing his lips together and taking a deep breath through his large nose, Breda said quietly, "I'm not working for Douglass. I said what I did to save your ass. Yes, Douglass said to watch you, but if you think I'm going to give that tightwad any _useful_ information, then you're dumber than I thought."

Ed blinked at that and thought about what Breda had just said, trying to decide if the man was insulting him or not.

"Eh... that didn't come out right..." Breda said a little sheepishly, then looked at Ed's injured eye again and frowned deeply before glancing down at the chess set Ed was holding. "Why d'you got that? You don't play chess."

"Oh... well..." Ed had meant to take it back home before returning to the office, but he'd already been gone a long time, and hadn't wanted to cause anymore problems, so he'd brought it with him. "I went to go check on Fuery and we played a couple games." More like Fuery wiped the floor with him, but Ed wasn't about to admit that.

Breda's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Ed closely, and Ed wasn't sure if he should go back to being mad or not. Breda said he wasn't working for Douglass, but should he believe him? What if he was just saying that? The man had already tried to use him before... but then, it wasn't as if Breda had actually _lied_ to him...

Ed returned Breda's inspection with one of his own and after a few moments of silence, a loud grumbling sound met Ed's ears. Clearing his throat, Ed mumbled in slight embarrassment, "I haven't eaten for a while..."

Breda smirked a little, and said, "Me either." He paused, then said, "Tell ya what. You bring the game and I'll pay for lunch."

Ed pressed his lips together in thought, trying to decide if he was still pissed at Breda or not. After all, he'd been pretty mad in the meeting... When his stomach growled again, Ed sighed and nodded. Maybe he could try undoing some of the damage that had already been done. Fuery seemed to think it was possible, and maybe he was right.

* * *

Bartholomew Kagegkuski heaved a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. He hadn't realized how stressful the meeting with the Ishbalan leaders was going to be. They had some very particular ideas about fighting, and it had taken quite a while to assure them that he would never try to coerce them into going against their beliefs.

While he did need fighting men, food and supplies were just as important. Hungry and barefoot soldiers didn't last nearly as long as well fed and well supplied ones. When they took over East City, it would be a great boon to their cause. While not as well protected as Central, East City was a well fortified military stronghold and could be used to defend many people who were now homeless due to the military's merciless pillaging of the smaller, unprotected towns.

"Well," a smooth female voice said, interrupting his thoughts. "I think you may have convinced them."

Bartholomew cracked open an eye and glanced at the black-clad, busty woman in front of him. He didn't like how she seemed to just show up out of nowhere. It was very... disconcerting.

"I don't know that I did," he said. He might have, but he wasn't sure. They said they would send their answer soon, but until they said yes, he wouldn't count on their help.

"Oh, I think you did," she said with a smirk. "They've been beaten down, chased, and harassed by the military for so long, that the prospect of peace is something they can't ignore."

"Maybe," he grunted, and shifted in his chair.

Folding her arms, the woman smiled knowingly at him. "But they aren't the real prize." He opened both of his eyes and stared at her in confusion. At that, her grin grew even wider. "That's right, the real prize is the scarred Ishbalan."

Bartholomew frowned deeply, but nodded. Yes, he'd heard of the scarred man, heard of how he liked to kill state alchemists... "He'd be very valuable to our cause, but he doesn't seem to follow Isbalan doctrine. Do you think he would fight for our cause?"

"No, I don't," she said. "He fights for his own cause, but I think that since both of you are interested in killing state alchemists, he might be willing to work with you." She paused. "Perhaps."

Perhaps...

"And what do you get out of this?" he asked flatly, not that he really expected a straight answer. "No one does anything for free."

Her smile became one of secrecy and she said, "Oh, I have my reasons. But for now, let's just say that I know where he is... I want to keep an eye on him... for when I need him..."

* * *

When Ed walked into the very small restaurant, his mouth instantly began salivating heavily. Whatever was being cooked in this place smelled delicious! He could hear a sizzling sound at the far end of the restaurant, and it was all he could do to keep from running back there to see what was cooking.

"Heymans!" a voice said jovially and Ed looked over to see a man close to Breda's age walking toward them.

"Teagan!" Breda responded just as warmly. He walked toward the other man and they smacked their fists together a few times, then the man, Teagan, began asking Breda if he'd gone to some game and the two of them started talking about sports, though for all Ed knew of the game, they might as well have been speaking a different language.

Ed glanced around the restaurant as he pressed the icepack to his eye. There was a small section on one side that held about five tables, then on the other side there were about ten booths, each sectioned off for more privacy, then at the far end was a bar for about seven people to sit, a section for the servers to work right behind that and then a door and a window that led into the kitchen. The lighting was dim, but it was very cozy in a way that made Ed feel right at home.

"So who's the runt?" Ed heard Teagan ask, and he turned and scowled darkly at man.

"Anyone would be a runt to you," Ed spat out irritably.

To this, the man laughed and patted his large stomach. "I think you have a point!" he said, chortling, then took a few steps toward Ed and held out his hand. "I'm Teagan. Welcome, welcome."

Ed shook the meaty hand offered, then followed Teagan and Breda to a booth in the back corner. The man left a menu for Ed, and gave Breda a meaningful look before saying he'd let Jozi know they were waiting. As Ed looked over the menu, Breda set the game up, and, after a minute a plump and very friendly-looking waitress came to take their order.

"Hi, Heymans," the woman said with a toothy grin. "Who's your friend?"

Breda smiled back at her and motioned toward Ed with a black knight. "This is Ed Elric. Ed, this is Jozi."

He nodded at the woman and she said, "Ooooh, I've heard a lot about you."

Ed frowned, not sure what that meant. "Eh... wish I could say the same..."

This, apparently, was the wrong response because she turned and glared darkly at Breda, who put his hands up and said defensively, "He's not around a lot!"

She rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, well, I know what you want." Turning to Ed, she said sweetly, "And what do you want, honey?"

Ed glanced at the menu before folding it and handing it over to her. "I'll just have whatever he's having." Her eyebrows raised a little and she looked him over doubtfully.

"Just bring it. Trust me, he might not look like it, but he can pack it away just as well as I can," Breda said, wiggling a white pawn, then setting it down on the board. With one last look at Ed, Jozi nodded and wandered off.

"Who's she?" Ed asked as Breda set the last piece on the board.

"My girlfriend," he grunted, then motioned for Ed to start.

"Your _girlfriend_?" Ed blurted in disbelief as he moved a pawn. "How is it that _you_ have a girlfriend and not Havoc? I mean, he's the one who's always chasing the girls."

"That's exactly it," Breda said as he moved one of his black pawns. "He's too high strung about finding someone, but he only chases after the skirts(1) that have pretty packaging and nothing up here." He tapped lightly on his head, and moved another of his pieces after Ed moved one of his own. "Chasing girls isn't Havoc's strength. He wants it to be, but it's not. He'd do a lot better if he toned it down."

"Hm..." Ed murmured as he moved a knight. He'd never thought of chasing girls as a strength or weakness, but then he'd seen the way Roy had flirted with girls in the past, and he was amazing at it. He had a subtle and charming way about him that Havoc just didn't have.

"We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Ed," Breda said as he moved a bishop forward. "Some are evident, some are not. Again, let's take Havoc as an example. He's horrible at courting the women, but he knows how to be diplomatic in his job and also he knows how to be covert. One would think they went hand in hand, but they don't because the situations are completely different."

Breda paused for a moment as he considered the board, then moved another pawn forward. "Havoc is like a pawn. When it comes right down to it, he's most comfortable taking out the guns and charging into the fray, like how you're moving your pawns." He motioned toward Ed's pieces, then pointed at his own.

"You see what I'm doing here?" When Ed shook his head, Breda said, "I'm using these pawns here to capture your attention, and these ones over here are sort of just inching in without you noticing them."

Ed blinked in surprise. He'd noticed the pieces, sure, but he hadn't really thought anything of them. Breda seemed to notice the surprise Ed felt because he said, "Havoc can be both or either when he needs to be, but just by looking at him, you'd think that he was simply a fighter."

Nodding, Ed adjusted the icepack he'd been holding to his eye. "So... what? You bring me here to tell me to play nice with Havoc. I wasn't the one that hit him," Ed said irritably.

Breda shook his head and motioned for Ed to make a move, which he did without even thinking. "No, I'm telling you this because you need to understand your own limitations, and you need to understand those around you and also what is happening around you." He moved a piece, then continued.

"This was, maybe still is, the colonel, and this is you right now," he said, pointing to Ed's king. "And these..." he motioned to his own pieces as Ed made a move. "These are all those in the military who want to take you down. These..." he said, motioning to the rest of Ed's pieces. "These are us. This is me, Falman, Havoc, Hawkeye, and whoever else is working under you to protect you."

"Like... Fuery?" Ed asked, noticing Breda left the man out of the list.

Breda frowned deeply, then moved his knight, blocking one of Ed's pawns. Pointing at it, he said, "No. This is Fuery. He may still be alive, but he's not in any position to do any good right now. He might be in the future, but we don't know."

Ed stared at the board unhappily. All of this chess talk was making his head spin. He liked his information to mean what it said. That's why he liked math and the sciences. He tapped his fingers on the table in frustration, then moved a piece, capturing one of Breda's pawns and said, "What is this about anyway? I mean... You were mad this morning, but now you're buying me lunch. Why?"

When no answer came, Ed glanced up to see Breda staring silently at him. The man's small eyes seemed to be weighing Ed and judging him. Finally, Breda said, "Your mom ever yell at you when you were little?"

"No," Ed said immediately, then said, "Well... yeah... a couple times..." Ed watched Breda kill off the one he'd just moved, then quickly made a move of his own.

"Why's that?" Breda asked, not looking at Ed, but studying the board carefully now.

Ed shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then said, "Me and Al deserved it, really. We were being stupid and we could have gotten hurt." Breda looked up at him expectantly, and Ed sighed heavily as he saw the connection. "You're not my mom," Ed said lamely as he watched Breda kill off another one of his pieces.

"Doesn't matter. I still don't want to see ya get hurt."

"You tried to use me," Ed said flatly.

"Yeah, I did," Breda admitted. "I wanted to guide you into doing what I thought was best, but you're a stubborn ass." He looked up and gave Ed a smirk. "I forgot about that."

Ed moved the icepack away from his eye and folded his arms obstinately. "Gee, thanks."

"Make your move," Breda said, and when Ed did, the man continued. "Look, I'm gonna say it flat out. I was pissed because you made things worse and because you didn't act how I wanted you to. If you think you're gonna get an apology because I tried to use you, then think again. I will say that my attitude wasn't called for, and for that, I hope you'll see past it, because we need to work together to get through this, okay?" Breda said directly.

Ed nodded. This was what he liked. He liked it when people were direct with him, even if he didn't like what they had to say. At least he knew what the hell they were talking about instead of all this dancing around the topic bullshit.

"What I did today was really stupid, wasn't it..." Ed said quietly as he replaced the icepack.

Breda gave him a sympathetic look and nodded. "You made lots of enemies today, and you showed how naive you are to the politics in the military. They'll be watching you like a hawk. One good thing is that the blow up from this morning can be used to our advantage. They'll think that we're all against you and it will make it easier for us to know what others are planning against you."

Ed nodded. It made sense.

"One of the down sides is that, as a lieutenant colonel, you're gonna be responsible for a lot of men when we get called out, and you can be sure we will. I think this thing in the East is going to get ugly. We'll be here to help you, but be sure to pay attention in your training classes because they'll be teaching you lots of tactical stuff." Breda eyed the board with a small grin and shook his head. "You'll need it."

Ed scowled. "You saying I suck as a leader?"

"No, only that being tactical is definitely not your strong point."

"What makes you say that?" Ed bit out unhappily.

Breda reached out and moved a piece, then said, "Checkmate."

Ed eyed the board in disbelief. It had been so fast! He'd only lost a couple pieces! Sure he knew he sucked at chess from playing Fuery, but it was usually a competitive game. He at least was able to take out a few of Fuery's pieces! What Breda had done was...

"Wow..." Ed said in disbelief. "You're really good," he complimented.

"I know," Breda said with a shrug, then started putting away the pieces. "Of course it helped that you suck at the game."

"Fuck you," Ed growled.

At this Breda simply laughed, and said, "We should play more often! Usually I play Havoc if I want to stroke my ego, but you're a whole lot worse than him."

Ed opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Jozi showed up with two large plates and set them down in front of them. When he saw what was on the plates, Ed grinned widely. The plates were _huge_ and filled with meaty ribs covered in some sort of brown sauce. A large pile of seasoned potatoes nearly overflowed onto the meat and two thick slabs of bread rested precariously on the edge of the plate.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven..." Ed murmured as he put the icepack down and picked up a fork and knife.

Laughing, Breda said, his mouth full, "Yeah, that's what I said the first time I saw this dish too. But then Jozi thought I was talking to her so I was forced to take her out."

Ed grinned as the woman scowled and smacked Breda playfully on the back of the head before stalking off. His smile faded a little as he suddenly thought of Roy. He missed him so bad... He just wanted to tell him that he was sorry for running off and for not keeping in touch. He wanted to see him again so much that it brought a small pain in his chest. He was sure Roy was alive... really he was... but _where_? Where was he, and how could he find him...?

* * *

Ed half walked, half waddled, down the hallway. He'd eaten the whole plate _and_ they'd gotten dessert... If Breda ate like that all the time, it was no wonder he was so hefty! Ed didn't think he'd eaten that well in a while, and he thought he was going to take a nice little nap on one of those couches in the office.

Besides how delicious the food was, Ed also felt really good about what had happened between him and Breda. They'd talked through the meal and a little after about Ed trusting them and him trying to make peace with everyone. Sometimes Ed had felt like Breda was verbally smacking him around, but Ed had told him to be direct when talking with him, so the man had been. And while not all of it had been easy to hear, it made much more sense and Breda actually seemed to be a little more comfortable with the directness.

"Fullmetal!" Ed heard. Stopping, Ed realized he'd just passed General Hakuro's office. Backing up a couple of steps, Ed looked in the open door to see the man glaring daggers at him. "Get your ass in this office, now!"

Grumbling under his breath, Ed stepped inside and took a deep breath. He and Breda had also talked about Ed being careful when he talked to people. He just hoped that he'd be able to keep himself from reacting...

Hakuro glared at him and said, motioning with his hand, "Move the icepack." When Ed did so, the man's eyebrow twitched and he said, "What the _hell_ happened to your face?"

* * *

Jean Havoc walked quickly down the hall, fingering the cigarette in his hand. He really didn't need Riza bitching at him. He knew he was wrong to hit Ed. He'd regretted it the moment it happened; but it _had_ happened, and the damn kid had deserved it. Ed didn't know what the hell he was doing.

He flipped the cigarette over and over in his hand. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd been _trying_ to piss Riza off. He had only been thinking of her emotional state when he suggested she go home. He'd been trying to be _nice_. Why the hell was it that every time he tried to be nice, he was screwed over?

Suddenly, Jean heard, "Fullmetal" shouted one hall down, and he quickly walked over to the other hallway and looked down in time to see Ed walk into Hakuro's office. Glancing down at the cigarette in his hand, Jean quickly stuck it behind his ear and moved down near the open office door.

Of course it was totally wrong of him to eaves drop like this, but then, if there was anything important going on in there, the door probably would have been shut.

"What the _hell_ happened to your face?" he heard Hakuro demand.

Jean cringed. This was where karma was going to bite him in the ass. Of course, he didn't blame Ed. Jean would probably rat him out too...

"I walked into a door," Ed said flatly, and Jean blinked. He'd totally expected Ed to tell on him... After all, hitting your commanding officer was a serious offense, and Ed would have been able to get back at him and have it be 'legal' too...

He instantly felt ashamed. He'd been so pissed at Ed that he'd completely disregarded what he _did_ know of him. Ed was a loud-mouthed brat, but he also had a good heart... Maybe, Breda was right. Maybe it _was_ the colonel who'd taken advantage of Ed... Jean pressed his lips together and listened as Hakuro spoke again.

"You do know that it's a punishable offence to lie to your commanding officer, don't you?"

_He's trying to scare him,_ Jean thought. It wouldn't work. Ed didn't scare that easily. If Ed were to be hanged, he'd probably be screaming 'fuck you all' as the rope was put around his neck. It was admirable, but damned frustrating because it was as if the kid didn't realize that it wasn't just his neck that was at stake.

"I'd heard something about that," he heard Ed say lightly. His tone bordered on flippant and respectful, and Jean rolled his eyes. Ed was just _begging_ to end up like Mustang...

* * *

Hakuro scowled darkly and Ed mentally kicked himself for his tone. This being respectful thing, was _not_ something that came naturally to him...

Picking up a sheet of paper, the general said, "Do you know what this is?"

"No, sir," Ed said in the most respectful tone he could come up with. He had an idea what it was, but he wasn't sure.

"I received this letter from the fuhrer's office this morning. It informed me of your visit—of your request to fill Mustang's position while he's... missing... and of your promotion to lieutenant colonel." The general set the paper down slowly and said, "We don't usually promote little puppies like yourself before they're weaned and trained properly."

Ed ground his teeth together angrily at those words. It was only with sheer will that he kept himself from saying anything. He wanted to. Oh yes, he had some very choice words that he wanted to say, but he kept quiet and waited.

Hakuro's features didn't change, but Ed thought the man seemed a little put out that Ed wasn't reacting to the jab. It could have been imagined, but it did make Ed feel like he'd won some sort of point.

"There's a thing called 'chain of command'. When you want something done, you go to the person who is just above you," Hakuro said in a tight voice. "Going over your commanding officer's head is inappropriate."

"I would have gone to my commanding officer, but he's missing," Ed said smoothly. "I didn't realize that I needed to go to you." It was sort of a half truth, half lie. Truthfully, he hadn't even thought about going to Hakuro, though if he'd thought about it, Ed wasn't exactly sure that he wouldn't have gone directly to the fuhrer anyway.

"Well, now you know," Hakuro said in a condescending tone. "I'm short staffed right now, so I expect you to be a good dog and not cause any problems."

Ed was seething inwardly, and before he could stop himself, he quipped smartly, "Don't worry; I won't cause you any more problems than I caused Mustang." Hakuro's eyes narrowed slightly, and Ed could tell that the man was definitely not reassured. "Besides," Ed said, trying to sound more respectful. "I'm sure Mustang will be back soon. I'm only filling in until then."

Hakuro gave a small smirk. "Do you really think he's still alive?"

_He has to be..._ Ed thought, but said, "Yes, sir, I do." The general gave him a knowing look and Ed suddenly had a thought. "Unless you have reason to think otherwise," Ed blurted without thinking. "There's been no news about him yet, maybe the military... or even a small group in the military... is hiding him? Maybe they want to keep him quiet?"

* * *

Jean frowned deeply. Was Ed accusing General Hakuro of hiding Colonel Mustang? Hakuro seemed to be on the same line of thought because he said flatly, "That would be quite the accusation. Be careful pointing fingers, Fullmetal. They just might get cut off."

The threat was obvious in his tone, and there was silence in the office before Ed said in a tone that was just as flat as Hakuro's, "Well, sir, I suppose you're right, but fingers can be replaced, and I'm sure the military expects its soldiers to have balls. You can't run with the big dogs when you pee like a puppy."

At that, Jean nearly burst out laughing, and instead settled on a quiet gagging motion. The exchange was both funny and extremely scary because he couldn't tell if Ed was just being mindlessly impertinent or if he realized exactly the implication that could be read in those words.

There was another long period of silence before Hakuro said dangerously, "Fullmetal... I am _not_ Roy Mustang. I will not put up with your insolence. Respect is paramount and you _will_ give it when and where it is due. I have a memo from Colonel Douglass expressing concern about your flippant attitude and I think your behavior here reflects that you're not mature enough to handle a position of authority in the military."

_Shit..._ Jean thought, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to light up the smoke he'd stuck behind his ear.

"I was planning on issuing you a warning concerning Douglass, but instead I will submit a write-up to be attached to your file. Next time I won't be as lenient, and you may find yourself scrubbing every damn toilet on this base, or eventually out of the military all together. You understand me, boy?"

Jean nodded to himself. It was a little lenient considering how pissed Hakuro sounded, but for Ed's first offence it was pretty standard.

* * *

After several moments of silence, Ed finally said in a tight voice, "Yes, sir, General Hakuro, sir." He felt angry at himself for not being able to keep quiet. He had been out of line, and he knew it. It had felt damn good to say what he had, but he knew that pissing off Hakuro would bring him nothing but grief; and right now he didn't need more problems, so he swallowed his pride—with much difficulty—and gave a low, respectful bow from the waist.

"You're right. I was out of line. I apologize, sir," Ed said in the most humble voice he could muster, then mentally tacked on, _You mother-fucking-son-of-a-bitch. I know you know where Roy is, and you know that I know..._

He heard Hakuro get out of his chair and after a moment he could see the man's black leather boots. "That's what I like to see, colonel(2). It's good to know that you can be trained when a firm hand is applied."

Ed snarled silently and was glad that the man couldn't see his face because he was sure that would only bring more trouble. He wondered if he should say something, but he couldn't think of anything polite to say, so he kept quiet.

"You're dismissed," Hakuro said lightly, and when Ed stood up straight, the man said, "Oh, and don't forget to pick up your new uniform..."

Ed blinked, then unconsciously reached up and fingered the stars on the shoulder of his jacket. Of course... He'd need a couple new every day jackets and a new dress jacket... With a nod, Ed turned and walked quickly out of the room. Turning quickly out into the hallway, Ed nearly collided with Jean Havoc, but the man reached out and stopped him from doing so. Putting a finger to his lips, Havoc motioned for him to follow, and they quickly made their way outside the building.

Neither of them spoke until they were out on the lawn and sitting under one of the trees. Lighting up a smoke, Havoc said, "You are one crazy son-of-a-bitch, you know that?"

Ed pulled out a cigarette of his own, and, after taking a drag, he glanced at Havoc and slowly brought the icepack back up to his eye, giving the man a pointed look. He was still mad over being sucker-punched.

Havoc seemed to realize it too because after a moment he said, "Alright! I'm _sorry_, okay?" Ed blinked. One would have thought that Ed had been on his case all day about it. "Thanks for not telling the old fart about what happened..." Havoc continued in a bit of a subdued voice.

"Yeah sure," Ed muttered, then said, "I'm still mad at you for being an asshole today."

* * *

"I'm still mad at you too," Jean said around the cigarette in his mouth. Truthfully, he wasn't sure who he was mad at anymore, though right now that didn't seem to matter. "But..." He paused, and when the kid looked over at him, he said, "That last thing you did. Backing down..."

Jean studied Ed for a moment. It must have killed Ed's pride to do what he had... "It was the right thing," Jean said finally. "You're never going to win going head to head with Hakuro. You have to know when to back out so that you can fight another day, and you did that. I never would have expected you to, but you did." He paused, took a drag, then said quietly, "Sort of reminded me of the colonel, in a way. That's something he would do..."

Ed swallowed and the eye not covered by the icepack blinked rapidly. Looking away, Ed took a deep drag, slowly blew out the smoke, then said quietly, "Thanks..."

* * *

Sheska made her way through the aisles of the library, looking at the spines of the books as she went. Her mind wandered and she thought of how good it had been to see Ed again, though she'd felt bad for bumping into him. She smiled a little at how nice he'd looked in the uniform and with his hair pulled up. She hadn't seen him for a while and really he looked great, and _different_!

Of course, seeing him made her remember that it had been a while since she'd called Winry. The two of them usually kept in touch, but since Winry had gone back to Rizembool with Ed and Al, they'd sort of lost contact. Too much going on... Making a mental note to call Winry soon, Sheska moved to the next aisle, then stopped when she heard voices.

"I think we should change the plan," the first voice, a male, said.

"Do you really think he knows?" a second male said.

There was a moment of silence before, "I think so. Besides, the public is getting anxious. The longer we wait to make a statement, the worse the press is going to make it out to be."

Sheska held her breath, wondering what the two men were talking about, but afraid to know at the same time.

"I say we just get rid of him," the second man said.

"It's too late. Too many people have seen him. I told you we should have taken him somewhere else to..." But the voice faded away as the men beyond the shelf walked away from her.

Bringing her thumb to her mouth, Sheska chewed lightly on the nail. It sounded like she'd heard some sort of plot, but... She shook her head. She hadn't heard enough to really make anything out anyway. Continuing her search, she tried to put the conversation out of her mind.

* * *

Ed walked slowly down the sidewalk. In one hand he carried a package with a new military dress jacket and a daily wear jacket—he'd traded in the one he'd been wearing and was now wearing a new one with the stars of a lieutenant colonel—the other hand was pressing yet another icepack to his eye, and a cigarette was hanging limply between his lips.

He was pretty sure he looked a little rough, though the military uniform seemed to do a lot to make him look respectable since he only elicited a few odd glances from 'normal-looking' people.

Passing a public garbage can, Ed dumped the icepack in the trash and continued walking. He'd definitely spent enough time icing it, and holding the damn thing to his eye was uncomfortable and inconvenient. Ed stopped, took one last drag on the cigarette, and, pulling it out of his mouth, he backed up a couple of steps and tossed that into the garbage as well, then began walking again and looked up at the sky.

It was still light, but in another hour the sun would be down. Sighing heavily, Ed continued on toward home. He was so tired... It was as if the last couple of days had actually spanned a year... He also hadn't slept much the night before, and all he wanted now was to get some sleep.

It was hard to believe that it had only been yesterday that he'd come back from Dublith. Just yesterday that he'd learned about what happened to Roy... The last twenty-four to forty-eight hours had given him the ride of his life. He'd learned that Roy had been shot and could be dead, barged in on the fuhrer, made all his co-workers...subordinates...angry with him, been punched in the eye by someone he trusted, made a shit-load of enemies, been told that Roy loved him, learned a whole hell-of-a-lot more about chess than he ever wanted to know, been promoted, been written up, actually held his temper and humbled himself when he'd normally lash out, and reconciled with most of his subordinates.

Just the thought of it all made him feel exhausted, and he instinctively pulled out another cigarette. At least it was Friday... At least tomorrow he could sleep in and, at least temporarily, forget about this whole mess. Maybe he could spend the day dreaming about Roy...

Ed stopped at an intersection. This was where he turned, crossed the road, and went right, but if he just kept going straight, to the other side of the road, he'd be at the cemetery...

Taking a deep drag, Ed breathed the smoke out of his nose as he went straight. Maybe he'd go visit Hughes tonight... As depressing as the thought was that Roy could soon have a marker at the cemetery, he just felt drawn to it... It had been far too long since he visited Hughes's grave anyway...

When he got to the gate, Ed hesitated. Taking one last drag, he flicked the cigarette away. For some reason it just seemed disrespectful to smoke here; and, besides, he felt uncomfortable smoking at Hughes's grave anyway... Probably because he knew that Hughes wouldn't approve...

Walking through the gate that surrounded the cemetery, Ed put a hand up and shielded his eyes against the low sun as he made his way toward Hughes's grave. As he drew near, he stopped and bit hesitantly on his bottom lip.

Gracia Hughes was standing in front of the grave, her back toward him, and Ed wasn't sure if he wanted to interrupt the private moment. Backing away a couple steps, Ed turned and started walking back toward the gate, but stopped when he heard his name called. Looking back, Ed saw Gracia beckoning him toward her.

"I didn't want to intrude," he said quietly as he came up beside her.

"Don't be silly," she said with a small smile. "You're always welcome."

"Thanks..." he murmured, and turned his attention to the grave. When he saw the small flower placed on the stone, he suddenly felt awful for not bringing something to put on the grave as well. He hadn't really thought about it, and now it was too late.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she said.

"Eh... well, I've actually been away..." he said. Actually, Ed didn't think he'd seen her since before he went to Rizembool. She'd been so kind to let Al and Winry stay with her... Ed instantly felt ungrateful. He should have visited... Chancing a glance at her, Ed saw that she was looking at him with a small smile.

"Well, it's been so long that I almost didn't recognize you... This is the first time I've seen you in a uniform, and your hair is up in a ponytail instead of a braid, and my goodness..." She stepped back slightly and eyed him up and down. "I think you've grown at _least_ an inch since the last time I saw you," she said and as much as he tried to hide it, a pleased grin broke out on his face. Gracia's own smile widened and she said, "That's what I'm used to seeing." At that, he laughed and shook his head. "You laugh, but you didn't see how glum you looked," she said.

"It's just been a loooong day," he said, his grin beginning to fade.

"Hm... well, does this long day have to do with that horrible looking bruise on your face?" she asked in concern. He reached up and gently touched his eye. The surrounding area was tender to the touch and he knew that he'd bruised up pretty bad.

"Yeah... kinda..." he murmured and looked back at the grave.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly.

He was quiet for a moment before saying, "Walked into a door..." When he got no response, Ed glanced back at her and saw that her arms were folded and she was giving him a skeptical look.

"And does this door have a name?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Giving her a sheepish grin he said, "Yeah, but we sort of worked it out, so don't worry. It's fine now."

Gracia made an exasperated sound and shook her head. As she looked back at the stone, Ed thought he heard her mutter, "men," but he wasn't quite sure.

Looking back at Hughes's gravestone, Ed let his mind wander to Roy. He didn't want to be standing in front of Roy's grave like this. Just the though made him want to curl up in a ball and cry.

"How do you stand it..." he asked quietly. "How do you stand the pain and the loneliness?" It was a hard question, but he couldn't help asking. If Roy was dead...

It was several minutes before she spoke, but when she did, her voice was full of emotion. "I just take it one day at a time. I come here every day to visit him, but of course it's not the same... He left me a beautiful little girl; and even though she's grown so much since then, sometimes I still imagine him playing with her. Sometimes... she still asks for him, but I can't give him back to her..."

She sniffled a little, then went on. "But there are times, usually at night when I'm in bed alone, that it's the hardest. When I reach over, he's not there... Even though I know he won't be, I still feel hurt and disappointed every time. Sometimes, when the loneliness is really bad, I cry myself to sleep... and sometimes... sometimes I dream of him... and when the dream is over, I cry because he's not really there, and I know that he never will be."

Ed glanced at her and saw a tear trickle slowly down her face. It sparkled a little as the light from the setting sun caught it, and he instantly felt tears in his own eyes. He knew that pain... he knew of that kind of pain, but to have lived with it for so long...

"I don't know that I really 'deal' with it, Ed. I just try to go on living the best I can..." she said, her voice filled with grief. He swallowed hard and, blinking, stepped closer to her and touched her arm to show he was there, to be some sort of a support.

"Does it ever get any easier?" he asked, then felt a tear escape his own eye.

"A little... with time... but..." She paused, then, wiping the tears roughly away, she whispered, "I'm sorry... I'm so embarrassed..."

"Don't be..." Ed said, trying to blink the new tears away. "I'm the one who's sorry. It was... I should have thought before asking... It's just... The two of you had the most perfect marriage I've ever seen, and I just..." He just couldn't imagine losing someone who he'd loved that much...

It had been obvious Maes and Gracia Hughes had been deeply in love, and truthfully, Ed was a little jealous. Havoc had said that Roy loved him, but he and Roy had never had what Hughes and Gracia had, and Ed wondered if maybe it was his fault...

Maybe his relationship with Roy hadn't been as good because _he_ hadn't loved Roy... _Did_ he love Roy? He really didn't know. He loved Al, and he'd loved his mom, but that was different. Sure, he liked Roy a lot. Roy was smart and they had intelligent conversations. Ed was attracted to him and wanted to have sex with him one hundred times a day, but was that love? Ed didn't think so... He wanted to know what love was—to be _in love_ with someone—but he just didn't know. He wanted to believe what he felt for Roy was love, he wanted to return Roy's feelings, but he just didn't know...

"We didn't have a perfect marriage," Gracia said finally. "No one ever has a _perfect_ relationship. Everyone has their ups and downs, but that's normal." She chuckled a little. "He always left his clothes on the floor in the bathroom and it drove me crazy. No matter how many times I told him not to, he still did it..." She paused, and Ed glanced at her. A small, but sad, smile was spread out over her face. "And for the longest time I would badger him about what he was doing at work. He'd never tell me because it was 'classified', but it really got on his nerves sometimes."

Ed frowned and said, "He should have told you." But then, he was biased. He'd had the same problem with Roy...

Gracia shook her head. "He was trying to protect me... and Elysia, when she came. He did it because he cared... I knew that, but..." She shook her head again and sniffled.

The world became slightly colder as the last ray of the sun disappeared, and Ed shivered a little. He felt so guilty... Roy had probably been trying to protect him too... But what good had it done? Roy was gone and Hughes was dead...

"Those are just little things," Ed said dismissively. "Besides those, the two of you had a great marriage. I'm sure you never yelled at each other or got in big fights." He knew his voice was a little bitter, but it was hard to not let his emotions show through. Why couldn't he and Roy have had something like that?

"Oh, Edward..." she said in a quiet, mournful voice. "We did... In fact, there was a time that I almost left him..."

"What?" Ed said in surprise. He couldn't believe that. "Why?" he blurted.

"He did... something... was a part of something... before we were married," she said in a low tone. Her voice held a note of bitterness to it, and Ed wondered if even now it was something that bothered her. "When I found out... I was hurt and angry... hurt and angry that it had happened, and also because he'd never told me. When I found out, it was... well, I know he didn't mean for me to find out, but one thing led to another and..." She shook her head and trailed off.

Ed wanted to ask about it even though he knew it was none of his business, and as he debated whether or not to ask for details, she went on. "We got through it; that's what matters. Those dark times make you really appreciate the good times. It's during those times that you either break apart or become more strongly bonded together. _That's_ what makes it good, Ed. It's being willing to work through it; willing to talk things through... It's both of you being willing to make changes, and being willing to work with each other despite your faults and downfalls."

He nodded miserably. All of the things that he and Roy _hadn't_ done. Oh... well, _Roy_ had been willing to talk about it all... He'd wanted to do that before Ed left; but he'd been too stubborn...

"I wish..." Ed began, then stopped and shook his head.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Gracia looking at him kindly in the fading light. "You'll find someone. Just give it time."

Ed gave her a small smile and said, "It's not that... it's that, I kinda do have someone, but we had a fight and now I can't talk to..." He almost said 'him', but instead said, "them."

Gracia's lips turned into a frown and Ed suddenly thought that she knew. She knew about him and Roy, and she didn't approve at all, but then the thought was gone. There was no way she could know. He was just being paranoid.

"Well..." she said in a non-committal tone. "I'm sure it will all work out one way or another..." Reaching around his shoulders, she gave him a squeeze before saying, "It's getting dark. Perhaps we should head out. I need to pick up Elysia from my mother."

Ed nodded and started walking with her. He felt like he'd said something wrong and wondered if he should ask her about it, but before he could, she said, "So, do you want pie or cake?"

"Huh?"

"For your birthday, silly," she said in a tone he was more used to from her. "It's your birthday next week, and I couldn't possibly _not_ make you something."

He blinked, then realized that, yes, it was his birthday next week. Mason had talked about giving him a party in Dublith earlier that week, but it seemed ages ago that it had happened.

"Oh, well, you don't have to make me anything. I don't want to bother you with it," he said as they walked through the gate and out of the cemetery.

"Not make you something for your eighteenth birthday? I don't think so," she said in a mock 'aghast' tone. "Besides, I'm already making something for Elysia, so it's no trouble at all."

"Well..." he said, trying to make a decision.

"I know, how about you come over for dinner tonight? I always make too much anyway, and it will be good to not have leftovers for once."

Ed opened his mouth to protest, then closed it and nodded. It was obvious that she wanted the company, and truthfully, it would probably do him some good too. After all, the only thing waiting for him at home was an empty apartment and the ghost of yesterday to keep him company.

* * *

Riza brought the comb through her hair again when a knock sounded on her front door. Frowning, she put the comb down. Who would be coming over at this time of the night? Grabbing her robe off the hook on the bathroom door, she put it on and started for the front door. Before she got there, Riza glanced over to the table where her pistol lay, and, in a moment of caution, she retrieved it.

Walking to the door, Riza lifted the gun up, and said loudly, "Who is it?"

"It's me," a familiar voice said.

Riza let out a sigh of relief, and, opening the door as far as the safety chain would allow, said, "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," Lieutenant Havoc said quickly, his voice pitched low.

She frowned and made no move to undo the safety chain. "I think we've talked enough for one day, Lieutenant."

"Look," he said in quiet irritation. "Me and Ed talked. We both agreed that he was being a shit, so we're fine now."

Riza raised an eyebrow. "Only Ed?"

"Okay... I was too..." he conceded. "Now will you let me in?"

"I'm sure that whatever it is that you have to say can be said at the office," she said not wanting to give him the wrong idea by letting him in this late at night. She already had a feeling he wanted to ask her out and she didn't want to encourage him.

Moving close to the door, Havoc whispered urgently, "No, it can't wait. I need to know what to do. Are we still following Mustang's orders, or should we abandon the plan in favor of something else?"

She stared at him for a moment before closing the door, undoing the chain, and opening the door wide. Sticking her head outside, she looked around before beckoning him inside. He was right. They did need to talk...

* * *

1 - girls

2 – 'colonel' can be used as an abbreviation for 'lieutenant colonel'


	40. Doubts

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty **

**Doubts**

**-  
**Ed stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and glanced around warily as he moved through the pub. He was getting odd looks from some of the people at the tables, and suddenly he wished he was wearing his uniform. While the black pants, white button-up shirt, and long black coat made him look more mature than his old style, he still had a youthful face, and, despite the fact that he'd grown recently—and was still growing—he still looked too short to be two days away from eighteen.

He really hated the damn uniform sometimes, but it _did_ give him more credibility, and less people looked at him as if he were a kid. He'd almost worn it today, just for that reason, but he'd wanted to just be himself right now— just wanted to be someone in the crowd.

The uniform marked him, made him different, but it wasn't just that. With his youth and his size, the rank he displayed on his shoulders almost seemed fake, and at that point just about everyone knew who he was, because there was only one person like him in the military.

Not that many people hadn't known him on sight before. His leather pants and long red coat had almost become something of a trademark for him. Ed was sure he could probably get someone to make him another coat since he was now too big for his other one, but the only reason he'd been able to go so long without wearing the military uniform was because they didn't make one his size. He wouldn't be able to get away with it now...

He sighed and shook his head at himself. There was no point thinking about that now. If he wanted to be respected in the military, then he'd have to wear the uniform.

Ed scowled slightly.

And if he didn't want to have his adulthood questioned, he should have worn the damn thing here, he thought—his mind going back to the original gripe about the uniform. It was a fucking _bar_. Of course people were going to stare at him and think he was too young to be here... what the hell had he been thinking?

Ed shrugged his shoulders, trying to relieve some tension, and gave challenging glares to those who were looking at him. He knew he didn't need to feel defensive, but he did. He was an adult. He had every right to be here.

When he got to the counter, Ed sat on one of the stools and looked dully at all the bottles. Why was he even here? He wasn't much of a drinker, so what was the point of this? Besides, Roy had a wide assortment of different liquors; if he wanted to drink, why waste his money here?

"You're looking a little down," a pleasant female voice said, and Ed looked up to see a woman looking at him from behind the counter. He knew she was probably only trying to be friendly, and that that was her job, but he really didn't feel like talking.

He shrugged and said, "Are you the bartender?" The last time he'd been to this place with Roy, there had been a man behind the counter.

"That's right," she said, then gave him a considering stare.

Ed rolled his eyes. "I'm _legal_ in case you're wondering," he growled irritably, thinking he definitely should have worn the uniform.

"Didn't even cross my mind," she said with a smile, and he nearly rolled his eyes again at the obvious lie. "So what can I get for you?"

"Amaretto Sour," he replied instantly. It was the only alcoholic drink he'd had that he liked. Maybe that was why he was here instead of delving through the kitchen at home. He had no idea how to make one...

She smiled at him again, and nodded before wandering off to make the drink. Pulling out a cigarette, Ed lit it and took a drag as he watched her make the drink. It looked easy enough, and Ed made a mental note to try it at home. When she brought it back, Ed dug in his pocket and pulled out a bill that was twice the amount of the drink and gave it to her, muttering for her to keep the rest.

With a sigh, Ed licked a little of the sugar from the rim and took a small drink. He'd spent the evening yesterday with Gracia and Elysia. In a way, it had been so heartbreaking to watch them, and he could almost envision Hughes there with them, yet he wasn't there...

Hughes dying had been hard on him, and he'd been hurt and outraged that it had happened. He'd always felt so sad for Elysia because he knew the pain of having a loved parent die, yet this was the first time he'd been able to see the situation from Gracia's point of view; and for some reason, it hurt that much more...

Ed took a slow drag from the cigarette and let the smoke out slowly through his nose. He'd stayed there last night. Gracia had offered him the couch, and he'd taken it without a second thought. The idea of returning to the empty apartment held no joy for him, and he was glad to avoid it at least for a small while.

He'd spent the morning with them too, and would have stayed longer, but didn't want to overstay his welcome. He'd gone home and taken enough time to shower and change before grabbing the chess set and heading to the hospital.

He'd spent most of the day playing chess and talking with Fuery. They talked about the game, and what Fuery could expect when he returned to work. It was one of the first things out of Fuery's mouth when Ed had walked into the room.

'_They're going to release me in a couple of days!'_ he'd exclaimed, and Ed had responded enthusiastically at first, but when he saw the fear and dread in the man's eyes, Ed realized that maybe this wasn't such a good thing for Fuery.

And, sure enough, as they'd talked, Ed had found out just how scared the man was. It was heartbreaking in a way, and Ed didn't have the heart to leave the hospital until he was kicked out by the nurses. Of course, if he'd been truthful to himself, he would have admitted that it was partially because he didn't want to go home...

Ed took a drink and stared dully down at the glass. He'd only been home long enough to put the game away, then he'd gone out again. He'd gone to the train station and sat on one of the benches, thinking of Al and wondering what would happen if he simply boarded a train and went back. Forget this mess with the military and just go live the quiet life in Rizembool... He'd been sorely tempted, but he hadn't contacted Al in months and truthfully he was afraid to face what had happened the night he'd left...

At that, Ed had tried to think of something else, and realized that he'd unconsciously picked a bench near where he'd first met up with Roy in Central all those years ago. He saw that scene over and over in his mind. A young and angry him, shouting that he was going to take the exam; and an overly smug Lieutenant Colonel Mustang walking away from him...

It hurt... thinking of Roy... almost as much, if not more, than thinking of Al... And when he hadn't been able to take the memories anymore, Ed had wandered around for a while more, until he found himself at the pub he and Roy had been at the night they'd gotten into that huge fight.

Ed took another drink and sighed.

And, that's where he was now. _I'm just stalling..._ he thought, looking down at his almost empty glass and lighting up a new cigarette. Sooner or later, he'd have to go back to the apartment and he'd have to deal with the fact that Roy wasn't there... Roy was gone, and Ed was alone with his stupidity and confusion.

Emptying his glass, Ed motioned for the woman and asked for another. Stalling... stalling... stalling...

Ed took an angry drag off the cigarette. He should have stayed in touch. He shouldn't have left so quickly. He should have worked things out with Roy before he left. He shouldn't have been so defensive and proud... So many things that he should or shouldn't have done, but none of them mattered now.

And if Roy _was_ alive? If Roy came back safe and sound, then what? Ed slipped the woman more money when she brought him the drink, then took a sip. Havoc said that Roy had said that he loved him, but what if Roy had simply been delusional? What if he hadn't meant it? He couldn't have been in his right mind to have said it where others could hear, even if it was true... but Havoc had said that Roy had thought Hawkeye was him...

Ed licked absentmindedly at the sugar and took another drink. He was starting to get a bit of a buzz, nothing big, but he was aware that the alcohol was affecting him a bit. Nothing to worry about though, he thought as he took another drink. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd drink enough that he'd just pass out when he got home and not have to worry about being alone...

_What am I thinking?_ Ed wondered, appalled at himself. Alcohol wasn't going to solve his problems; if anything, it was only helping him avoid everything... But then, that was sort of what he was going for right now...

_I'm such a coward..._ Ed thought, taking a deep drink. He was afraid of going back and being alone... afraid that Roy was really dead... but he was also afraid of Roy being alive and having to face him again. Roy been so angry when he'd left, and that was still hanging over Ed's head, and this whole _love_ thing...

What was _love_? What if he didn't love Roy? What if he only really liked him? And what if he _did_ love Roy, what then? It wasn't as if they could be like _normal_ people and get married and have kids... They'd always have to hide it. They'd never be able to have a normal life...

Ed took another deep drink. Why couldn't anything he did be normal? What the fuck was _wrong_ with him? _I'm a coward, that's what's wrong with me..._ he thought darkly. If he wasn't a coward, then why couldn't he figure out how he felt about Roy? Why was he afraid to go back to the apartment? And why couldn't he make himself call Al... He swallowed hard at the thought of his brother, then downed the rest of the drink before motioning to the woman again.

"Do you have anything stronger than this?" he asked, then added, "Something that doesn't taste like shit?" When she frowned, he quickly said, "I'm not saying this tasted like shit, this was really good, eh..." He tried to think quickly, but his brain seemed a little fuzzy and it was taking him longer than usual to come up with exactly what he wanted to say. He just didn't want to be served anything like what Roy usually drank... "Can you give me something stronger that tastes just as good as this?" he finally settled on.

She seemed to consider him for a moment, then asked, "How are you getting home tonight?"

He blinked. "What?" What kind of a question was that? When she continued to look at him, he said, "Walking. Why?"

"Well, you've already had two drinks, and I think if I gave you anything stronger you might need a cab to get home," she said, and he could see the concern in her eyes.

He sighed. He should probably just leave now. After all, he was already quite buzzed... "Okay, fine, then I'll take a cab home," Ed finally muttered. He was already regretting his decision, but what did it matter anyway? It wasn't as if he had to go in to work tomorrow...

Ed pulled out another cigarette, and eyed the pack irritably. It was almost empty... he'd just bought the damn thing! How could it be almost empty _again_?! He shook his head as he lit up and wondered if maybe he'd dropped some...

A few minutes later a tall and relatively thin glass filled with some sort of red liquid was placed in front of him. He sniffed at it, and, after taking a sip, asked, "What is it? It tastes kind of like..." He took another sip. It was sweet and didn't taste like alcohol at all. "Fruit punch..." he finished.

She chuckled and handed him a piece of paper. "It's called 'Red Death'(1)." She motioned to the paper. "Why don't you write down your address, and I'll call a cab for you."

Ed took another sip and said, a little confused, "But... I'm not ready to leave yet..."

"Give it about fifteen minutes." She shook her head. "Or less. You've already been drinking so..." She trailed off, then said, "I just want to be sure you get home safely."

He nodded, a little touched by her concern, then did as she asked. After she wandered off, Ed took another drink and wondered idly why Roy never drank anything that tasted this good...

* * *

Al slammed the book shut in frustration, and looked around the room. It was empty, but then, so was the rest of the house. Pinako had gone off on a short two day trip to pick up some parts from one of her suppliers; Russell had gone off _somewhere_… he'd simply said he needed to go deal with a few things and left; and Winry...

He opened the book and tried to read again, but wasn't able to concentrate on the words.

Winry had been there earlier, working on a piece of automail, then later he'd found a note that said she was going out. Just like that! She hadn't even told him where she was going! What if she got hurt? What if she ran into Archer or Kimblee?

Again, Al slammed the book closed, and this time he got out of his chair and walked toward the window. It was getting dark, and there was a curfew enforced by the military... Where _was_ she? His mind filled with a variety of dreadful things that could have happened to her and he forcefully tried to push them out of his mind, but just couldn't.

For the first few hours after he'd found the note, he'd tried to keep himself occupied. After all, she wouldn't be gone long, right? But after a while, he'd been unable to keep his nervousness down, and finally called around. He'd found out that she'd visited a nearby friend, but she'd been gone when he called, and the friend hadn't known where she was going...

Running his fingers through his hair, Al plopped himself down on Pinako's rocking chair and tapped his foot impatiently. He wanted to go find her, but she might come home while he was gone... Unable to stay sitting, Al stood and began pacing. This was so _frustrating_! What if she was hurt? What if she needed him?! What if—

The sound of footsteps on the porch caught his attention before the door opened and Winry walked through the door. She was carrying a couple of sacks, and she used her hip to close the door behind her.

"Winry!" Al exclaimed walking toward her, with arms stretched wide. He felt an immense amount of relief at seeing her alive and well, and wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go, but his frustration didn't allow him to do that. Russell had been telling him how Winry had been saying that there was no danger and that she could do anything she wanted and nothing would happen to her. He needed to make her see that it was that kind of thinking that got people hurt... even killed...

His heart ached at that thought. He'd never be able to go on if he lost her... Didn't she know that? Didn't she know that she was everything to him, that he _needed_ her more than anything else in the world?

She'd started walking toward the kitchen, but stopped and looked at him in surprise. "Al? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly, her lips pulled into a small frown.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, then he said, "What's wrong? What's _wrong?!_ Are you joking?! I've been worried _sick_ about you!"

"I went to visit Julia, then went to the market..." She paused, then said in a quiet and hurt voice, "I left you a note..."

"You should have told me where you were going!" Al insisted, taking one of the bags from her and heading toward the kitchen. For a moment there was nothing, then he heard her footsteps following him. He set his bag on the counter, and a moment later she placed hers beside it.

"You're not my mother, Al," she said, an angry tinge in her voice.

"I'm not trying to be your mother. I'm just _worried_ about you!" he returned, feeling frustrated at how stubborn she was acting. Couldn't she see that he only had her best interests in mind?

Winry made an exasperated sound, pulled a container of eggs from the bag, and headed for the fridge. "I'm _fine_! I came back before it got completely dark, right?"

"Yeah, you did," Al said, roughly pulling some of the bag's contents out and stuffing them carelessly into a cupboard. "But still, you shouldn't go out by yourself! I want to be there to protect you!" Al tried to explain.

"I don't _need_ protection," Winry returned flatly, then shut the door to the fridge. "If anyone needs protection, it's you." She pointed at him when she said 'you', then folded her arms angrily.

"Me?" Al said incredulously, folding the paper sack and putting it aside.

"Yes, you," she said, unfolding her arms and placing her hands on her hips. "Those jerks from the military have it out for you, but you don't even see it."

Al shook his head in agitation and tapped a finger against his chest. "_I_ can protect myself, Winry. I've been doing it for years. You're moving this away from the real point."

Winry lifted a hand and flipped her hair back in obvious irritation. "And what exactly _is_ the real point, Al?"

"The fact that you didn't tell me you were leaving!" he exclaimed.

"I wrote you a _note_!" she returned, her voice rising.

"Yes, but you didn't say where you were going," he pointed out, not for the first time.

She stared at him in disbelief, then said, quietly, "I thought you trusted me..."

"I _do_ trust you. That's not the—"

"Then why are you so upset?" she asked, looking hurt and angry.

"Because! You didn't tell me where you were going!" Al said in frustration. Was this such a hard concept to grasp?

Her face darkened and she said angrily, "You want me to tell you where I'm going?"

"_YES_!" Al exclaimed, glad that it seemed to finally be sinking into her head.

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you where I'm going." She turned and headed out of the kitchen. "I'm going outside for a walk!"

"Winry!" Al yelled, following her to the door. "You can't go out there! It's not safe!" What if a patrol passed by? What if the house was being watched? They both knew that Archer was targeting them...

"What? I can't walk around my own house?" she challenged. "There's like, _no one_ around here." She opened the door and walked outside; and he quickly followed her and shut the door.

"It's almost full dark," he pointed out as he followed her down the steps.

Stopping, she rounded on him and said, "Will you _stop_ following me? I want to be _alone_, okay? You know, I'm my own person, Alphonse. I lived my life just _fine_ before you came to live with us! I'm capable of taking care of myself! Or maybe you forgot that while you and Ed just decided to go roaming around the countryside, not even caring about the fact that someone just might be worried about _you_!"

He swallowed and opened his mouth, but she road over him, tears filling her voice.

"Did _you_ ever call _me_ to let me know where you were? Did you even think that maybe _I_ might have lost sleep worrying about you guys? Even when you came to visit, you wouldn't tell me anything that was going on! How can you be such a hypocrite?!"

Tears trickled from her eyes, and he suddenly felt ashamed. She was right... but... What about what Russell had said...?

"We did it to protect you..." he said lamely.

"And you're the only one who can do things to protect the ones they love?" she demanded with a sob. "I told you, Archer and Kimblee... they're out to get you! If you go out with me all the time, then they might have more chances to get at you!"

"Winry..." Al breathed, suddenly feeling like a complete jerk. He reached out to her, but she pulled away.

"I just want to be alone right now..." she sobbed, and headed toward the shed.

His shoulders fell as he watched her go. After she disappeared into the shed, Al stepped back, sat heavily on the first step that led up to the veranda surrounding the house, and hung his head between his knees. Everything that she'd said swirled and danced in his mind, and he tried to work it all out. He didn't want to fight... he hated fighting with the ones he loved... A tear escaped his eye and he wiped it away quickly. He wasn't going to let this get to him... He just needed to think about this, that's all...

The faint sound of the phone ringing in the house met his ears, but he stayed where he was. He didn't feel like talking to anyone right now... Whoever it was could call back...

* * *

Ed collapsed on the couch. He was sooooo glad he'd taken a taxi home... He didn't feel like he was _really_ drunk, but maybe he was... His whole body was so relaxed... It wasn't like that one time when he'd had those shots with Roy. Almost, but not as... what? Intense? Something like that... At that time, he'd barely known which way was up and which way was down. Well, whatever... He couldn't think of it right now anyway... Maybe before he'd been _reeeeaaaally _drunk, and now he was only drunk.

At that thought, Ed began to laugh in little small snorts. 'Only drunk'... _I'm so fucking wasted..._ Ed thought in amusement, then let his head roll to one side so that he could stare at the dimly lit room. This wasn't where he wanted to sleep, although he was pretty tired and a loopy combination of comfortable and lazy... He _did_ want to sleep... just not here...

Flopping off the couch, Ed staggered to his feet and headed into the hallway, but instead of moving toward the bedroom, he made a detour to the bathroom. When he got to the toilet, Ed took a moment to decide if he was just going to whip it out or if he should just get undressed... Not that it mattered... not like there was any reason to get completely undressed just to take a piss...

Undoing his pants, Ed let them fall down to his ankles, then, when he felt the urge to throw up from the room moving, he turned and plopped down on the toilet seat, then pushed his penis down to point into the toilet bowl. He just didn't _feel_ like doing it standing up... Besides, he felt much steadier sitting down than standing up right now, and he didn't feel as much like he was going to puke...

Ed kicked off his boots before standing up, and as he entered the hallway, he finally stumbled out of his boxers and pants. When he got to the bedroom doorway, Ed leaned against the frame and pulled off his shirt as well. Throwing it on the floor, he headed to the bed and fell forward onto the mattress with enough force to make himself bounce a couple times.

_Now that_, Ed though with a stupid grin at feeling the air on his skin, and thought, _Feels really good... _He wiggled a little, feeling the sheets against his naked body, then crawled up more on the bed and laid on his back with his arms and legs spread wide.

Staring up at the ceiling, Ed gripped the sheets tightly with his hands. How many times had he lain next to Roy staring up at that ceiling? How many times had he lain here looking up at the ceiling while Roy had been touching him and licking him and sucking on him...

Ed reached down and fondled his flaccid penis while thinking of Roy touching him, but after a few minutes, he sighed and moved his hand away. He just wasn't feeling it right now... It just wasn't coming... And really, he didn't care right now. He didn't want to give himself another hand job; he wanted to be with Roy...

He moaned and put his flesh arm over his eyes. _I'm not thinking about you, Roy,_ Ed thought. _I'm not thinking about you because I'm drunk. That was the whole point of it... why am I still thinking of you...?_ Ed turned on his side and tried to think of something else besides Roy, and when his eyes landed on the telephone, he was able to do just that.

_Al..._ Ed thought, then groaned. That was almost as bad as thinking about Roy! But now that he had his brother in mind, Ed couldn't seem to let him go. Why hadn't he called Al yet? Why was he being so prideful and stubborn? Hadn't he learned yet that such things only caused trouble?

Reaching out, Ed flopped his hand over onto the phone before picking it up and balancing it precariously on his ear. Letting go of the receiver, Ed reached over and clumsily dialed the number to the Rockbell residence, then brought his hand back to hold onto the receiver.

His hand shook, and his heart beat quickly. _What am I doing?_ Ed asked himself nervously as he listened to it ring. _I'm drunk and I'm calling my brother..._ Ed thought vaguely, answering his own question. He wished he could say that it was courage and remorse that were driving him to make the call, but really it was mostly the feeling of utter loneliness. Even if Al yelled at him, it would be better than laying here alone, right?

Again and again the phone rang, yet there was no answer, and the nervousness he'd been feeling turned into a sick feeling of disappointment. He'd finally gotten the courage to call—despite the fact that it had come from a bottle—and no one was answering...

Gently setting the receiver back in its cradle, Ed stared dully at it in bitter loneliness before closing his eyes and letting himself fall into an intoxicated sleep.

* * *

1- Red Death is made with 1/2 ounce of Vodka, Southern Comfort, Amaretto, Sloe Gin, Triple Sec and 3 ounces of orange juice. Served with ice and in a Collins glass.


	41. Honesty and Deceit

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-One**

**Honesty and Deceit**

**-  
**Winry stepped outside and softly closed the door behind her. It was very early, but she couldn't sleep and she had no real desire to stay in bed. Her gaze moved over the fields of grass, the trees, the dirt road... The sun had yet to peak out over the mountains, but the sky and her surroundings were softly lit by its eminent arrival.

She breathed the morning air in deeply, then let it out as she moved to stand near the railing that surrounded the porch. The air was lukewarm, but the day would heat quickly after the sun rose. Summer in Rizembool was a beautiful thing and she loved it despite how hot it got in the middle of the day.

Memories wafted through her mind of when she was younger, of when she played in the fields and in the trees, or down by the stream... Memories of a time when her days were filled of playing with her friends, then coming home and chatting to her mother as she made dinner, or sitting on her father's lap while he read.

Tears pricked at her eyes at the thought of her parents. She missed them so much... They'd gone away to help in the war and never returned... War had been such a far away thing to her before. It had been a thing that happened in another place to other people. War had possessed no name, no face... But after she'd learned of their deaths it had felt as if war was right outside her window, waiting to come in and get her like the imaginary monster under her bed or in her closet.

It was the same now. War was rearing its ugly head and it _was_ just outside her window, but it wasn't coming for her... No, it never came for her... She gazed over the peaceful scenery with a sharp pain in her chest. War was out there. It was hiding in the trees and it was stationed in Rizembool's central township. War was wearing the sharp blue uniforms of the Amestris military, and it was wearing the plain clothes worn by those she'd met from the People's Army. War was knocking on her door and demanding yet another sacrifice, and she loathed to give up anything else because it hurt too badly. The loneliness was just too much...

Winry sniffled a little and looked down at the heavy wood of the balustrade. She'd spent a long time crying in the shed last night. It wasn't as if she'd wanted to get into a fight with Al. Yes, it was true that she hadn't told him directly that she was leaving, but it was because she'd known that he would want to go with her.

She gritted her teeth in anger. Those men from the military—Archer and Kimblee—they were out to get Al. Archer wanted Al to work for him, and she wouldn't put it past him to do something rotten to coerce him into joining them. And then there was Kimblee...

A small growling noise sounded in her throat. The way Kimblee had looked at Al, the way he'd _talked _to Al... it reeked of wrongness, yet Al didn't see it! And then there was Russell. He also wanted Al to join in this war, but for the People's Army instead. She shuddered at the thought of him.

Russell was... She couldn't explain it exactly, but something wasn't right about him... And, of course, Al didn't see that either. He was too naïve, too trusting... It was one of those things she both loved and hated about him. It was cute, but not when there was trouble.

She sighed and glanced over toward the mountains. The sun would be up very soon now, yet it was hard to feel any joy over seeing the sunrise. The fight had taken a lot out of her. She didn't want Al to get hurt just because he was trying to protect her. There was no need for him to go with her everywhere she went.

And, as much as she tried to forget, Russell's words haunted her. She tried to tell herself that Al did trust her, that Russell was wrong. He was just trying to cause contention between them. She was sure that he was telling Al things to make him doubt her too... It made sense in a sick way. If they were fighting, then maybe Al would decide to take off and join the People's Army. Of course, Al didn't think that way.

They needed to talk... They needed to clear the air between them, because she couldn't stand the thought of fighting with Al, and she couldn't bear the thought of Al joining the war—no matter what side. She had so many fears and doubts...

Winry moved her gaze to the road that led away from the house. How many times had she stood here or at her window, gazing at that road and waiting for Al and Ed to return? How often had she wondered if they were alright? They were so close; they were like her family... How often had she felt the fear that they would never return, just like her parents...? She never wanted to have to deal with that kind of fear and loneliness again...

She lifted her head a fraction when she heard the door opening behind her, then shutting softly. Her body tensed and she forced herself to stare fixedly at the road. Until either granny or Russell came back, she and Al were the only ones there, so there was no mistaking who it was behind her.

There was silence for a few moments, then she heard Al's boots clunk against the wooden deck as he walked over beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, Winry could see him lean against the railing. He didn't say anything, and neither did she, but Winry could feel the tension between them. It was uncomfortable and she suddenly felt the urge to run away and not have to deal with it. Instead, she turned her head and looked at Al as he stared off down the road.

Winry took in every little feature as she studied him. His sandy-blond hair had begun to grow out just a little bit since she'd cut it, but it still looked neat and well taken care of. His lips were pulled down into a thoughtful frown, and his eyes held dark bags under them as if he hadn't slept.

Perhaps he hadn't...

The two of them rarely, if almost never, fought and in fact this was the first real fight they'd had since... well... since they were children. Alphonse was such a peace-loving person that Winry doubted he'd gotten any more sleep than she had.

Winry felt her eyes sting as she imagined him not being here anymore. It suddenly didn't matter if she was right or if he was right... Who spoke up first or apologized didn't really matter. What mattered was that they loved each other and that they took care of each other...

"Al..." Winry began with the intention of apologizing, but Al turned and quickly pressed a finger to her lips.

"Don't say it," he whispered, and his eyes crinkled in pain. She frowned at him, wondering what he thought she had been going to say. With a deep sigh, Al dropped his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and saying, "I was wrong..." She shook her head and opened her mouth, but again he pressed a finger to her lips. "Don't speak, please..." he said. "Not yet. Just... Let me speak first."

Winry nodded reluctantly and closed her mouth. Shaking his head, Al turned his back to the railing and leaned against it. "I thought a lot about what you said last night, and... well, I... I can't promise I won't try to go with you all the time. I can't promise not to worry about you or to want to protect you."

He turned his head and stared at her in silence for a moment before going on. "I can't imagine my life without you..." he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "If something happened to you..." He shook his head. "I'd never forgive myself. I know you're probably going to be mad at me for saying this, but I'm not going to back down. I'd do anything if I thought it would keep you safe."

She folded her arms under her breasts and stared down at the porch before saying, "You're right. I don't like it, but..." Her voice caught and she had to stop for a moment to get her emotions in check. "I do understand. I want to protect you too. I don't want to lose anyone else..."

Tears gathered in her eyes, making the wood blur into a brown blob, and she closed her eyes, making a tear from each eye slide down her cheek. The sound of boots on wood met her ears, then a hand was touching her chin and tipping her head up.

Opening her eyes, Winry saw that Al was looking down at her in concern, and she tried to look down again as embarrassment filled her at being so weak. Instead of forcing her to keep looking up at him, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her.

"I don't want to fight, Winry..." he breathed into her ear. "Why are we fighting? Why is it always so tense?"

She wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her head in his chest before saying bitterly, "It's because of the military, and because of Russell..." Truthfully, she wanted to lay all the blame at Russell's feet. She didn't like him, and it was after he came that her and Al had become so edgy with each other. When Al didn't say anything, Winry pulled back a little and stared up into Al's eyes. "I don't want him staying here anymore, Al..." Sure, he was gone now, but she knew he'd be back...

Al looked away and pulled an indecisive look. "Winry... I don't think Russell is the problem..."

"Yes he is," she insisted, and tried to pull away, but he held onto her. Feeling frustrated and hurt, Winry said, "I don't feel good having him here. If you won't tell him to leave, then I will." If she had to, she'd talk to granny and have _her_ tell him to leave. It was her house after all.

"Winry, you don't understand... I know Russell is sort of a jerk sometimes, but he does have a good heart."

She made a sound of frustration, and said, "You say that about _everyone_. I love you, Al, I really do, but you're too nice. You don't see that there could be a problem because you want to believe there is good in everyone."

"Not everyone, but I do believe it of Russell." Al shook his head. "He _has_ been a little strange since he got here, but I'm guessing it's the stress he's under with his assignment from his superiors and having to leave Fletcher in Dublith.

"I feel for him, I really do, but..." She made a sound of frustration. "Do you care for him more than me?"

"No! Of course not!" Al exclaimed, looking hurt that she'd even suggest such a thing.

"Then _please_ ask him to go..."

Al gave her a wounded look, but finally nodded. "Okay... When he gets back, I'll let him know that he'll need to find another place... But, give him a little time to make other plans at least, okay?"

"He didn't give _us_ any notice that he was coming," she complained.

"Compromise with me," Al said. "He's my friend, and I don't want to ask him to leave."

She sighed. "Okay..." She supposed she could compromise with him about it. At least Russell would be gone soon, and that would mean less tension in the house, and less of a chance that he'd be able to talk Al into joining the People's Army.

* * *

It took Ed five tries, in the space of three hours, to get out of bed. He'd sit up, groan at whatever symptom was bothering him most at the moment—be it headache, stomachache, or just plain tiredness—and lay back down to get more rest. In fact, it wasn't until the phone rang that Ed realized just how late he'd slept in. Not that it really mattered. Weekends were meant for sleeping in.

Rolling over, Ed pawed blindly for the phone—more because the noise was giving him a headache than the fact that he wanted to answer it—and when he found the receiver, Ed brought it to his ear and mumbled, "Whthefukdouwant..."

There was a moment of silence before, "Mornin', chief!" was bellowed into the phone. "Or would you rather me call you 'boss' now?"

"I'd rather you not be calling at all. It's Sunday. What the hell do you want?" Ed snapped, and instantly regretted it as his head began to pound even worse than it had been.

Havoc chuckled. "I see you're in your normal, pleasant mood. Well, I'll get right to the point then. I just visited Fuery at the hospital—you know they're releasing him soon, right? Anyway, he seemed pretty nervous and all, and I thought that, if you weren't busy today, it would be nice if you dropped by and said 'hi'."

Ed glanced over to the clock. It was almost noon... Rubbing his eyes, Ed said, "Yeah, sure. I was planning on going down there anyway today."

"Thanks, chief." There was a small pause, then a more serious, "He told me how often you've been visiting him. That's... that's really good of you..."

"Yeah, I'm full of goodwill," Ed said sardonically as he yawned. He wanted to say something snide, but they'd just made peace and he didn't want to chance shaking things up right now. "Anything else?"

"Nope!" the man said, his voice returning to his previous good humor. Ed frowned in irritation. Why did Havoc get to sound like he was in such a good mood when Ed felt so shitty?

"Fine, bye," Ed grunted, and hung the phone up so roughly that it made a loud 'ding' sound as the bell inside jingled. Ed lay there for several minutes, tempted to go back to sleep. Instead, he smacked his lips together and decided that he needed something to get the moisture back in his mouth. Some water or something...

After forcing himself out of bed, Ed looked down at himself as he headed toward the kitchen. Naked. Completely naked. And of course his clothes were strewn all over the apartment... He pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water, and sipped at it on his way to the bathroom. What the hell had he been thinking last night? Obviously, he _hadn't_ been thinking...

_Never getting drunk again..._ Ed thought to himself as he moved to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. He moved his head close to the glass and peered closely at himself. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was messy and knotted. He groaned as he reached up and fingered his hair. It was going to be a bitch to untangle...

He leaned in even closer and turned his head slightly before saying to his reflection, "You look like shit." He sniffled a little, then rubbed at his nose before running a hand over his cheeks. He had a bit of stubble, but it was so fine and light that it was barely noticeable. "No wonder everyone thinks you look like a kid," Ed complained to his reflection as he set the glass of water down and leaned in a tad closer to inspect his face.

Maybe he should shave... It was something he only had to do a couple times a week, but he needed it now... Ed blanched at the thought. Once or twice a week was actually an exaggeration. It was more like once or twice a month...

"You suck, you know that right?" Ed said to his reflection, who didn't seem at all disturbed by this insult. "You can't even grow facial hair!" Ed looked down at Roy's razor and can of shaving cream. He could see Roy in his mind, face lathered with cream and slowly dragging the expensive razor down his face.

"_Only pansies use shaving cream and razors,"_ Ed remembered saying. He smiled a little as he remembered turning one of his fingers into a blade, rubbing soap on his face after wetting it a little, and quickly giving himself a shave.

"_You'd use a razor and shaving cream too if you actually grew facial hair instead of that fuzz you like to pretend is hair," _Roy had countered with that damned smirk of his...

Ed blinked rapidly at the sudden sting in his eyes, then grabbed the can of shaving cream, dispensed some into his palm, then lathered his face with it. It felt strange having foam on his face, but when Ed looked back up to the mirror, all he could think of was how Roy looked like this in the mornings.

Snatching the razor, Ed pointed it at his reflection and said, "Pathetic. That's you. Weeping and moaning over that bastard... He's _fine._ He's going to show up any day now and he'll probably laugh at how stupid you were to believe that he could be hurt."

Ed dragged the razor down his face, turned on the tap, and rinsed the blade before repeating the motion. After a couple of times, Ed pointed the razor at his reflection again and said, "Roy Mustang _doesn't_ make mistakes. You'll see."

His reflection looked unconvinced.

Swallowing hard, Ed continued to shave; and when he was done, he rinsed his face, patted it dry, then reached for the bottle of aftershave lotion Roy always used. If he was going to use Roy's stuff, he might as well go all the way.

Patting the lotion on his skin, Ed suddenly breathed in quickly through his nose and he blinked his eyes again—this time at a different sting. "Holy fuck!" Ed swore as his face tingled and burned. He turned to the bottle to check the ingredients before putting it back on the counter. Fucking Mustang could have told him...

He looked back up at the mirror and touched his skin. It felt so smooth... He leaned close to the mirror to inspect himself. Much smoother than shaving with a knife and a bit of soap and water...

"No wonder he always feels so good..." Ed murmured, then closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on how smooth his skin felt under his fingers, and the smell of the aftershave. He could almost pretend he was touching Roy's face...

Almost.

But not quite.

Ed opened his eyes and stared at himself for a moment before dropping his hand. "Like I said..." he whispered, and saw in the mirror, the moisture gathering in his eyes as he felt the sting. "Pathetic. He's fine... I don't miss him at all..."

A tear escaped and trickled down his cheek. He sniffled, and murmured, "And you're a fucking _bad_ liar..." before turning away from the mirror and hurrying back to the bedroom.

* * *

"Al!" Al snorted as he was jolted awake from his nap. "Al!" came the shout again, this time accompanied by a banging on his door. "I'm coming in." He heard the door open, then a small, "Oh..."

"I'm awake..." he said groggily. _Now..._ Reaching up, Al pulled his face off the open book he'd been sleeping on and sat up to see Winry standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He smiled tiredly at her to show that he wasn't bothered at all, and said, "What's going on?"

She looked a little sheepish, and said, "I'm really sorry I woke you. I didn't realize..." She trailed off as he waved a hand to show that it was of no consequence. He needed to get up anyway or he wouldn't be able to get to sleep that night.

"Well..." She stepped fully into the room, and he could see that she was holding a piece of paper. "I was just going over the list of people we were inviting to the wedding..."

_Uh oh..._ he thought, knowing full well what was coming. "And?" he asked, showing no sign that he knew what she was about to bring up.

"And, well..." Winry looked down at the list, then up to him. "You haven't been able to contact Ed yet, have you?"

_I knew it..._ Al thought wearily. "Aaaah... no," he admitted. "But," he continued, trying to make himself look better. "From what I gathered talking to teacher, he's in Central, so he shouldn't be too hard to find."

Winry stared at him silently for a moment, then walked over to the bed, and sat down beside him. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Al..." she began softly. "I really don't understand why you haven't tried to find him yet. It's been months." She turned her head to look at him and repeated with a little force, _"Months!"_

He couldn't meet her eyes. She was right, but... "Why do you want him at the wedding so much?" he asked and glanced at her long enough to see a shocked and incredulous look on her face before looking away.

"Are you serious?!" Winry said in disbelief. "I can't believe you're asking me that! Ed is my _friend_, and he's your brother. Those reasons alone are enough to want him there. Besides, if it gets you two back together then that's even more important! I don't like to see how distant you are when it comes to him. I want to see you guys laughing and joking and..." her voice faltered, and he turned his head back to look at her.

"Winry..." Al said and rested his hand on her leg.

She turned her head to look up into his eyes and said, "Why don't you want him there?" He opened his mouth and closed it again before shrugging a little. "Oh, no..." Winry pressed. "You tell me, Alphonse. I don't want to be put off anymore. You keep giving me excuse after excuse, but they're not the real reasons, are they?" Her eyes held hurt in them and she pleaded, "Please... tell me the real reason."

Al opened his mouth again, closed it, swallowed, then looked away. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her that he was afraid that she still loved Ed, couldn't tell her that he was afraid that she'd change her mind at the last second and want to be with him instead.

He looked down in his lap and murmured, "I guess I'm just afraid that we'll get into another fight." It was half truth, but not the 'real reason'. "What if we get into a fight and ruin the day for you?" he said, hoping she'd take that excuse and not dig deeper.

"Oh... Al..." Winry murmured and laid her hand on his. "That's really thoughtful, but I'm sure it will be fine. I think Ed has had plenty of time to cool down. I bet..." She trailed off and there was silence for a moment before she continued. "I bet he's as nervous as you are. I bet he thinks you hate him and don't want to see him," she said, her voice seeming more confident. "I think you should find him and make peace with him."

He looked down at his hands. Maybe she was right... Maybe. He glanced up at her and felt guilt rise up within him at not telling her the whole truth. What would she say if he told her his fears? Would she think he didn't trust her? Would she be mad at him?

Al looked back down at his hands and gripped the hem of his shirt. If she really knew him, would she still want to marry him? Maybe she was just in love with who she thought he was... Or maybe... He gripped the shirt tighter. Maybe, she was simply setting for him because she didn't think she could have Ed...

The thought caused a sharp pain in his chest and he felt bile rise up in his throat. "Winry?" he choked out. He wanted to look up at her, but he couldn't... "Do you... Do you love me?" he asked. "I mean, really? Are you sure you want to marry me?"

When there was no immediate answer, he looked up to see a horrified look on her face. "Of course!" she breathed. "I... How can you even doubt it—doubt _me_?"

Relief and a new wave of guilt washed through him and he said, "I don't doubt you... I guess I just wanted to be sure..." It sounded lame, even to himself, and he felt the need to mutter an apology before saying, "I'll find him... but... I'm worried about leaving you here by yourself..."

"Don't be," she said. "I'll probably be safer while you're gone since it's _you_ that Archer and Kimblee want, not me. You just be careful in Central, okay?"

He nodded. "I will." A thought occurred to him. "I'll take Russell with me." It would make a great excuse to get his friend out of Rizembool without having to directly tell him he wasn't wanted there anymore.

Unfortunately, this did not produce the response that he'd been expecting. Winry didn't look too pleased. "I don't think you should travel with him," she said flatly.

"I thought you wanted him out of the house," he countered, feeling a little exasperated.

"I do, but I don't want him going with you." Her tone was stubborn and he grumbled to himself before answering her.

"You can't have things both ways. This will get him away from here; and _I_ am not worried about him."

She stood up and frowned at him stubbornly before grudgingly saying, "Fine... I still don't like it, but if it will get you to go find Ed and if he's not here..." She paused for a moment, then said, "When will you leave? How long do you think it will take?"

Good questions... Al laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Well, I guess that depends on when Russell gets back. I doubt he's going to be gone too long. Hmmm... Maybe we'll leave in a couple of weeks, no later than that, and I'll bet if I go directly to Central Headquarters, I'll be able to find out where Ed is as long as he hasn't left the military yet..."

He glanced at her and saw a worried look on her face. "I doubt we'll be gone longer than a week or two." When her demeanor didn't change, Al asked, "Do you want to come?"

She seemed to consider this, then shook her head. "Probably better if you go alone. You know, so that you and Ed can have some time by yourselves... Which means, you should dump Russell along the way," she added tersely.

Al laughed. "Admit it, you just don't want to travel with him."

Winry gave him a small smile and started toward the door. When she reached it, she looked back at him and said, "Maaaaaybe," before slipping out of the room.

He chuckled a little more, then closed his eyes. He still felt a little worried and a tad jealous of Ed, but he couldn't avoid this forever. Winry was right. He and Ed needed to make peace. This had gone on for far too long, and truthfully... Al missed him. With a sigh, Al opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It was Ed's birthday tomorrow... He'd be eighteen... If he was in Central, Gracia Hughes probably knew how to contact him. If he knew her—and he did—she'd probably be sure to make Ed a cake or something. That's just the way she was.

Maybe he should call her. He'd stopped calling around after he'd talked with Colonel Mustang. He'd felt so hurt that he'd been lied to because he couldn't help but wonder if Ed was behind the lie. Al supposed he shouldn't be so shocked that the colonel would lie to him because, well... this was Colonel Mustang, and as much as he respected the man, he hadn't always been completely truthful to him and Ed over the years. He was shady sometimes; but still, Al didn't like the lie.

He'd felt that if Ed had asked the colonel to lie for him, then he'd probably asked others too. And if he went that far, then he must not have wanted to be found. Al didn't know if Gracia would lie to him on Ed's request or not, but he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. And besides, it had been a few months. Winry was probably right. Things had calmed down and Ed probably was just too proud to admit he was wrong.

Al yawned and closed his eyes. He was still groggy from his nap, and tired from a night of no sleep. Maybe he'd call sometime tonight, or even tomorrow morning. Maybe tomorrow. Then he could wish Elysia a happy birthday too.

* * *

Ed sat the chess set on the concrete step as he sat down on the stairs at the back of the hospital. His visit with Kain Fuery had gone rather well. Like always, they'd played chess and talked. It seemed like Fuery got better with the game each time he went to visit, and Ed wondered if it was some memory coming back.

He shrugged and fished in his pocket for his pack of smokes. Fuery was very nervous though, Havoc had been right. The poor man was terrified of going back out into a world he didn't remember. He was scared to go back to work because he couldn't remember all that he was supposed to do. Ed had promised that he'd help, and he was sure everyone else would too. No one wanted Fuery to be out of a job—he was one of them—and they were going to take care of him. That had seemed to make Fuery feel a little better, but Ed wasn't sure how much it had really helped.

Pulling the pack from his pocket, Ed looked at it in disbelief for a moment before he threw it on the ground and cursed. Empty again... How the fucking hell had that happened? He tried to think back on how many he'd smoked today, but he couldn't remember.

"Fuck..." he growled in frustration and rested his head in his hands. He needed a fucking smoke and he was out. Seriously, he needed to keep track of these things and get more _before_ he ran out...

The sound of footsteps on the concrete caught his attention as they moved closer to him, and when they stopped, Ed glanced up to see a cigarette held in front of his face. Looking past it, Ed saw the face of the doctor who had treated his eye the day Havoc had punched him.

"You going to take it or what?" the ragged-looking doctor asked.

Ed reached up, relieved him of the cigarette, and murmured, "Thanks..." before lighting up and inhaling. His eyes widened and he started hacking. "What the fucking hell is _this_?!" Ed exclaimed through coughs. This was worse than the first time he'd had one of Havoc's cigarettes.

"It's a _real_ cigarette," the doctor said, and Ed stared hard at it before realizing there was no filter on the damn thing. He shuddered a little and took another drag, bracing himself for the raw assault on his throat and lungs.

The doctor—Knox, Ed recalled—took a seat beside him on the step and lit up one for himself. After a couple moments of silence, besides Ed's coughing, Knox said, "You been taking care of that eye?"

"Yeah," Ed choked out. He was definitely getting the fix he needed, but Ed didn't think it was worth the price he was paying.

Knox eyed him up and down. "You didn't go get yourself hurt again, did you?" Instead of answering verbally, Ed shook his head. "Good. Why are you at the hospital if you're not hurt?" The man's voice was gruff, but Ed could also detect some note of parental concern there as well. At least, it was the same tone his mother would get sometimes. He'd also gotten the same tone from Hughes here and there when he was younger...

"Visiting a friend," he said, then took another drag before coughing again. Knox nodded, and took a drag off his own cigarette as if it were no big deal. "What about you?" Ed asked.

"I work here; in the morgue."

Ed nodded as he remembered something about that from before. Finishing the cigarette, Ed flicked it away and stared dully down at the ground for a moment, then sat up straight when a thought occurred to him.

"You work in the morgue?" Ed asked, suddenly much more interested.

"That's what I said, wasn't it?" Knox grunted.

"Are there any other morgues in Central?"

"No. There used to be, but when Fuhrer Bradley came to power, he wanted all the dead in one place. Stupid thing, if you ask me," Knox said as he flicked his own cigarette away.

Ed's heart pounded in his chest and he felt nervous excitement bubble up inside of him. "Do you know about the shooting that happened at headquarters?" Ed asked, knowing full well that anyone who didn't know had probably been outside the city or living under a rock.

"Of course," Knox said, taking on a guarded look. Ed opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wasn't sure how to ask what he wanted to ask. Should he say it right out, or should he try to beat around the bush? He wasn't very good at the latter, and the former might cause him more problems than anything else... The decision was taken from him when Knox said dryly, "You want to know if Colonel Mustang is down in my office?"

"Uuuuhh..." was all Ed could manage, amazed that the doctor had practically read his mind.

"You're not the only one who's asked me that question. The press, nosey military people... I've gotten all kinds, and I'll tell you what I told them; it's classified."

Ed deflated at that and murmured, "Oh..." Of course... It would make sense that he couldn't tell...

Knox eyed him again, then said, "Most people's motives are easy to figure out, but I have no idea why _you_ want to know." He looked at Ed expectantly.

Ed cast his mind about trying to come up with a good reason. Telling the man they were lovers would probably—most definitely—be a bad idea, and the fact that Roy was his commanding officer didn't really seem that important of a reason. Finally Ed settled on, "We're roommates..."

When Knox didn't say anything, Ed said quickly, "And friends. He's my friend, and I was out of town when it happened, and I'm just worried..." He choked on the last word and turned his head away. Would a roommate or a friend get teary about this sort of thing? Was he being too suspicious?

"Sorry..." Ed murmured, pulling himself together. "It's just that no one can tell me anything, and I'm worried..."

Knox seemed to mull over this before saying, "He's your commanding officer too, isn't he?"

"Ah, yeah," Ed said, surprised that he knew.

Knox nodded and gave him a considering look. "I've known Roy Mustang for quite a long time; knew him in Ishbal too. Good man, odd tastes..." Knox looked at Ed through narrowed eyes for a moment before saying, "How long have you two been living together?"

"A few months..." Ed said quietly. What did 'odd tastes' mean? Did Knox know something was going on between him and Roy? Would he tell others? He suddenly felt a little panicked and tried to figure out how he could fix the situation.

"A record for him... Well, whatever, not my business." Knox looked around, then said, in a low voice, "I haven't seen him, and if you ask me, he's not dead. There's always the possibility they dumped his body somewhere, but I doubt it. Mustang is too well known, and it's common knowledge that the medics rushed off with him after the shooting, so if he's dead, they'll have to have a body to produce. I also doubt they're going to be able to keep this from the public much longer. Either he's dead or he's not, and the longer they wait, the more suspicious it becomes."

Ed stared at him in silence. He didn't dare to believe that Knox could be right. "So, you think he's alive?" He wanted to hear it again. He _needed_ to hear it again.

Knox nodded. "If he was dead, I think we'd already know it. The window of opportunity has passed for his enemies. I think we'll find out soon, so don't let it worry you anymore." Knox scowled, and said irritably, "And don't you tell anyone what I told you."

"I won't," Ed said, a smile growing on his face. He felt relief wash over him. Up until this moment, he'd had nothing solid to hold on to. Now, he really could hope that Roy was alive. He wouldn't hope too much because it would be all that much worse if it didn't end up being true, but it was something.

Knox stood and said, "Well, I've got to get back to work." He stared silently at Ed for a moment, then said, "Take care of yourself, alright?"

Ed nodded. "I will, and... thanks..." The last was added in a soft tone. Knox waved it off, gave him one last studied stare, and began walking away.

After he was about two paces away, Knox called back, "And quit smoking. It's bad for your health."

At that, Ed laughed out loud. He supposed if anyone else had told him that, he would have gotten irritated, but from a man who smoked cigarettes that Ed would only touch when he was desperate...

"I'll think about it," Ed said in good humor. He'd actually already thought about it. He'd planned to quit when he came back to Central, but it just hadn't been the right time; too much going on.

Ed watched Doctor Knox go, then stood up, picked up the chess set, and headed toward home. His mind was filled with hopes and dreams that he almost felt were possible now. Roy wasn't in the morgue, and Doctor Knox thought that he was alive. It was the best news he'd heard in a while and he let himself hope, just a little, that it was true.

He turned the corner that would take him straight to the apartment and saw Havoc walking down the sidewalk toward him. The man was barely lighting up a cigarette and when he looked up, he saw Ed and waved.

Ed half waved, half made a 'give me' gesture. "Loan me one," he said when he was close enough. Shrugging, Havoc stopped, pulled one out, and handed it to Ed who promptly lit up. After taking a drag, Ed said, "What are you doing around here?"

"Heading toward a friend's place," he said nonchalantly, then waved and started walking again.

Ed turned a little to glance at him as he passed, then shrugged and walked the last little stretch toward the apartment. Finishing the cigarette, Ed decided that he'd drop off the game, then head to the store to pick up another pack and maybe some food.

He unlocked the door and let himself in, then headed back to the bedroom to drop the game onto the bed. He turned to go, then stopped and frowned at Roy's desk. One of the drawers was slightly open.

Odd...

Ed never got into Roy's desk, and he was pretty sure that all the drawers had been completely closed before...

He walked over and slid the drawer open. It was filled with a mess of papers. He tapped his fingers on the wood, then shrugged and shut the drawer. Maybe he somehow nudged it when he'd been drunk last night, or maybe he'd even opened it and now didn't remember. Shaking his head at himself, Ed headed out of the apartment with a new determination not to drink that much again.

* * *

Kain stared up through the darkness at the ceiling above. He knew that he should go to sleep, but he couldn't. He was tired, but also too worried to sleep. The day had brought so many visitors, mostly people that were his coworkers from before... He'd met them all before, sure, but most of them didn't visit on a regular basis. It had only been Roy who had done so; and then, of course, Ed when he came back to Central.

He smiled a little. He liked Ed a lot. He was fun to be with and very reassuring. He was just as good of a person as Roy had said he was. His smile faded and he thought of Roy—the man who everyone but Ed called 'the colonel'. What had happened to him? Was he alright? As he pondered this, the door opened and for a moment his room was bathed in light from the hallway, then the door closed and he heard the click of a lock.

Kain sat up, expecting to see a nurse, or even—hopefully—Ed or Roy, but it wasn't any of those. It was a woman he'd never seen before, or at least that he didn't remember having seen before, which didn't mean too much. She was a pretty woman, with long, straight, chestnut-colored hair. She was wearing a business suit that was grayish-purple with a green shirt visible near her neck.

"My name is Colonel Juliet Douglas," she said coolly. "I'm the fuhrer's secretary. You may address me as Ms. Douglas." Kain only had a moment to take this in before she continued. "Colonel Mustang put in a request to have you reinstated in your previous position despite the fact that your medical condition warrants your termination from the military."

Kain swallowed hard as fear gripped his insides and squeezed tightly. This was it. They were going to kick him out and he'd have no job, and of course they'd kick him out of the dorms because he couldn't be in the military and live there, and he'd have no way to pay for another place to live because he didn't have any skills, or at least any that he could remember... His fearful thoughts ran together in a torrent of frightened emotions.

"However," Ms. Douglas said, breaking into his terrified thoughts. "We have decided to grant Colonel Mustang's request."

Kain's heart leapt within him. They were going to approve the request? "But... _why_?" he asked, unable to keep the question inside.

"Because," the woman said with a smile that Kain wasn't sure he trusted. "Before you lost your memory, you were a spy for the fuhrer. You kept an eye on Colonel Mustang and those close to him, and reported to me and the fuhrer. We're keeping you on because Colonel Mustang and his staff trusts you, and we want you to continue the work you've been doing."

His mouth dropped in shock. Spy... On Roy... and Ed... and all the others? He felt numb inside as he tried to comprehend it all. He would _never_ do such a thing... would he? Kain wanted to beg her to tell him it wasn't true. He couldn't bear the thought that he'd spied on them. He _liked _them... They'd been so good to him and they'd visited him and... and...

"When you're released from the hospital, I expect you to make an appointment with the fuhrer. You'll need to be reeducated about the atrocities committed by the colonel and those who follow him."

Kain opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn't exactly sure what he would say. Slowly, he closed his mouth and nodded in numb silence. He didn't want to believe it, but... this was the fuhrer's secretary, and she wouldn't have any reason to lie to him, would she? When she saw that he understood what was expected of him, the woman nodded curtly and left the room, leaving Kain even more miserable than he'd been before she'd come.


	42. Catching the Fish

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-Two**

**Catching the Fish**

**-  
**Ed yawned widely and pulled open the door to Central Headquarters. He _never_ came to work this early, and it was only the desire to get there before everyone else that had caused him to do such thing. He'd made a bad start of filling in for Roy last week, and he wanted to try improving the other officers' image of him a little. That meant he needed to be a little more responsible—or at least try to be.

When he reached Roy's office—not _his_ office, he was just filling in—Ed opened the door and walked into the room. Looking around, he thought that it seemed strange to see the place at this time of day. The sun, barely up now, was peeking in through the windows, making the desk, couches, and cabinets cast long shadows.

With a deep breath, Ed walked in and shut the door before moving to plop down on one of the couches. His eyes rested on the desk and he simply stared at it, letting his mind imagine Roy sitting there and giving him a smug grin.

Ed sighed and shook his head. He had things to do and he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self-pity. Standing up, he moved over to the cabinets and began to flip through files. The other officers would be here in a few hours and he wanted to have some idea of what was going to be expected of him. It had dawned on him yesterday that he really had no idea what it was that Roy actually did. The closest he'd come to knowing was when Roy had bribed him into signing reports with him, and Ed had a feeling that randomly signing documents without reading them wasn't in the job description.

So he searched the files, read some of the documents, and tried to be interested in copies of requests for various things, and mundane reports about building upkeep, financial statements, warehouse requisition forms, and such. He was determined to do as good of a job filling this position as Roy did; if not better, since Roy didn't really seem to care too much about his desk job.

After about an hour and a half, Ed decided he'd find out what Roy had been doing the day he'd been shot. It would probably be a good starting place since, most likely, he'd need to finish any work that hadn't been done that day. Surprisingly, however, there _was_ no unfinished work. Everything that had needed to be done up to that day was complete—in fact, Roy had been a little ahead in his work when he was shot...

Two and a half hours after he'd gotten there, Lieutenant Hawkeye walked into the office. It surprised him and he jumped a little. No one had to be there for another half hour. Apparently, she'd been surprised as well because when she saw him, she stopped mid-stride for a moment, then made her way over to where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the cabinets.

"Good morning," she said, looking down at him.

"Mornin'," Ed replied as he began picking up folders. "You're early."

"I'm always here at this time," she said, taking some of the folders and starting to put them away. "I like to get here while it's still peaceful. It also gives me a chance to have everything together that I need to give the colonel when he comes in."

Ed stuffed the last of the folders in the cabinet, shut the drawer, then turned to give her a wide grin. "Basically, you like getting here early so you can have a stack of work to drop on him."

"I want to be sure he has enough time to get everything done," she said cryptically, but a hint of laughter was threaded in her tone.

"You're sadistic sometimes, you know that?" Ed said with a smirk. She seemed to be in much better spirits than last week, and for that, Ed was grateful. It's harder to mope when you have no one to mope with.

Hawkeye walked over to one of the couches and leaned against it. She studied him for a moment, then asked, "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Ed lied. "Just thought I'd come in a bit early and see what Roy was up to before..." He trailed off for a second, then said, "Just wanted to see where I needed to pick up."

She didn't say anything for a moment, then said simply, "Colonel Mustang."

He blinked. "What?"

"Colonel Mustang, or just Mustang, Ed. You called him 'Roy'. I think you should watch what you say; especially where it's possible other military personnel might be able to hear." She was right, of course, and Ed mentally berated himself. "Also, be careful of your actions. Think before you act, and try not to do anything that seems out of the ordinary."

"Think before I act? Asking a little much, aren't you?" he said with a good humor he didn't feel. When she didn't say anything, Ed said more soberly, "You're right. I'm sorry. Thanks for the advice."

She nodded curtly as if that was the right answer, then pushed herself away from the couch. "Well, since you're already here, let me explain your new job. I'll be right back." Hawkeye left, and was gone only a moment before she came back in with a couple of folders. "Have a seat," she said, motioning toward Roy's desk.

Ed frowned and eyed the chair. He'd sat in Roy's chair before, but this time was different. This time he was sitting in it as if he were Roy. Ed tried to convince himself that this wasn't permanent; this was only temporary... he was only filling in... He moved over to the leather chair, took a deep breath, and settled himself down into it. Despite the fact that he'd been growing in the past few months, the chair was obviously crafted with someone larger in mind and for a moment it irked him, but he let it go just as quickly and turned his attention to Hawkeye.

"Now," she began. "You're in charge of..."

Ed listened closely as she explained what departments he dealt most closely with; who he should expect request forms from; what he had to read and sign; forms, letters, and requests General Hakuro would expect him to go over; what he had to report to Hakuro and when. She also covered meetings he needed to have with the general, as well as meetings he was supposed to have individually with his subordinates. He already knew about the weekly meetings he had with Roy's close staff as a group, so that was no surprise.

Near the end, Ed's head was spinning. He'd had no idea Roy did all of that, he'd simply thought the man sat there most of the day signing forms and being lazy when he didn't have anything going on.

Hawkeye smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'll be here to remind you of things."

"Thanks," Ed said with a small laugh. "Did I look worried?"

"Terrified," she said with a smile of her own.

He opened his mouth to say something when the door to the office opened. Breda and Falman were walking in, and Breda was carrying a cake. They stopped when they saw them, and Breda said, "Hey, I didn't know you were in already. Gracia Hughes dropped this off. If I would have known you were here, I would have had her come and give it to you herself."

Breda placed the cake on the desk, and Ed looked down at it to see that a fourth of it was missing. Crumbs dotted the tray and a used knife sat to one side while a small stack of napkins and plastic forks sat on the other side. Ed glanced up and frowned.

"Where's the rest of it?" he asked, though he was sure he already knew.

"Falman and I had some of it. You know, be sure it wasn't poisoned or anything. Can't be too careful," Breda said with a grin.

"Hey," another voice said from the doorway, "I ran into Gracia outside and she said there was ca—oh, mornin', chief," Havoc said as he walked toward the desk. Ed grunted, then scowled when Havoc picked up the knife and cut himself a slice of the cake before picking it up with one hand and taking a bite.

"That happens to be _my_ cake," Ed said, irritable that no one was bothering to ask him if they could have any.

Havoc nodded, swallowed, then said, "And it's very good cake too. Thanks for having a birthday. Gracia doesn't make cake for any of us." A small chorus of 'happy birthdays' sounded from the other officers.

"What does that make you now?" Breda asked, cutting another slice and this time setting it on a napkin and moving it in front of Ed with a fork. Breda eyed him up and down, then said, "Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Fuck you," Ed growled, then picked up the fork and pointed it at the man. "I'm _eighteen_ now." Breda laughed as Ed roughly cut a piece of the cake and ate it. Ed knew he should be used to the teasing, but he still didn't like it, and it was hard not to react to it. He swallowed then looked at Hawkeye who had politely not joined the others in helping herself to the cake. "You can have a slice," he offered.

Hawkeye shook her head. "I'll pass for now, but if there's any left later, I'll take you up on it." She turned and started toward the door. "Right now I have some things I need to get for you, so be sure to be done with what's in those folders when I come back."

"Hawkeye," Breda said quickly. "We're takin' the birthday boy out for lunch today. You in?" When she nodded, Breda turned to Ed and said, "Don't eat too much of that cake. There's lots of food coming up later."

"You don't have to—" Ed began, but was cut off by Falman.

"You haven't actually worked here at headquarters long enough to know, but we always do lunch for birthdays."

"Ah..." Ed said. If they wanted to feed him, he wasn't about to say no. They wished him a happy birthday again, then headed out of the office. He sat there staring first at the door, then at the cake. Usually he and Al spent their birthdays together doing... well, something... The point was that it was usually the two of them, but today there Al wasn't here. Today it was just him...

He glanced at the phone and wondered if he should try calling Al again. He missed him and wanted to apologize... He just wanted everything to be okay again. Ed finished the slice of cake, then pushed the napkin aside and rested his forehead on the desk. In a perfect world it would be Roy sitting in this chair rather than him, and he and Al would be doing something fun for his birthday. Maybe he'd do something... special... with Roy later when it was dark and...

But it wasn't a perfect world. Roy wasn't here, and Al was in Rizembool... Ed lifted his head and pulled the folders close to him, before opening the one on top and staring down at the papers. He didn't want to wallow in self pity. Ed was sure Roy was alive—though he wouldn't allow himself to get too excited until he had hard proof—and hopefully he'd be able to reconcile with Al soon... He just needed to get the courage to make that phone call...

* * *

The phone rang once, then again, before a pleasant female voice said, "Hughes residence, Gracia speaking."

Al smiled. "Mrs. Hughes; it's Alphonse Elric."

"Oh! Alphonse!" came the excited reply. "It's been so long. How are you?"

He shifted in his chair, and said, "Good, good. And yourself?"

"The same as always." He could hear her waving off his inquiry in favor of her own questions. "How are you feeling? How is Winry?"

Al's smile turned a little sad. She didn't ask how Ed was, so she must know he wasn't there. She'd been on his list of people to call in Central, but he'd stopped after Colonel Mustang. If he would have kept calling, maybe he would have learned more. Al shook his head. That was the past and there was nothing he could do about it now.

"I'm feeling great and Winry is... well..." He laughed. "She's very excited." He paused, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist asking why, and when she did, Al said, "We're engaged to be married."

"How wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Of course, you're invited," Al said, thinking of their invitation list. So many invitations to send out... Who knew planning for a wedding was so involving...

"I'd better be!" she puffed.

Al shifted the receiver to his other ear, then said, changing the subject, "I thought I'd call and wish Elysia a happy birthday."

"You're so sweet," Gracia said. "She's actually at the neighbor's house while I set up for the party."

"That's alright; I'll just try to call back later."

"I'm sure she'll love to hear from you. Why don't you call your brother instead, or have you already called him?"

Ah, so she didn't know about what had happened between them...

"Actually, I haven't called yet. I'm not sure where would be the best place to get a hold of him." Not, 'I don't know where he is'. No, Al didn't see a point in going into the details if he didn't need to, and it wasn't as if he was lying to her. His statement had been completely true, though he knew she wouldn't take it for all it truly meant.

"I'll bet he's at work right now," she said easily.

Al frowned. Was Ed still with the military, or had he quit and gotten another job? "So you think I should call headquarters?" he asked, trying to pry for information.

"That's what I just said. You have Colonel Mustang's office number, right? You should be able to reach your brother easily."

"Yeah, I have it..." he said, thinking about the last time he'd called the colonel's office. Would Colonel Mustang lie to him again?

"Thank you for calling, Alphonse. I have to go now to get this place ready for the party."

"Of course," Al murmured. They said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. Resting his head on the table, Al tried to decide what to do. If he got Colonel Mustang on the phone, should he demand to talk to Ed? Should he tell the man that he knew he'd lied? What if Ed didn't want to talk to him?

'What ifs' filled his mind and he shut his eyes tightly to try and make them go away. He'd call. He would call and he'd demand to talk to Ed. He groaned a little, thinking of how that conversation might go.

"What's wrong?"

He lifted his head and saw Winry walking into the room. She looked as if she was ready to go out, and then it hit him that she _was_ going to go out. She went down to take a look at that truck every week—the one that worked only half the time and the other half it was parked near the Rockbell home so that Winry could fix it—and the man lived near the main part of Rizembool.

Al frowned. He wanted to tell her to stay here or to let him go with her, but since the fight they'd had, he'd decided to not bother her about it as much. She was probably right about it being more dangerous having him being with her than not...

Winry walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

He smiled, not wanting to burden her with his problems. "Nothing that seeing the face of a beautiful angel couldn't cure," he said, and laughed when she grimaced at the comment. He knew she didn't approve of him calling her an angel. Too 'sappy' she said, and she definitely didn't think she fit in the 'angel' category.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I'm going to take off," she said, looking a little disgruntled.

Before she could turn around, Al grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. He let his lips linger on her skin for a long moment, then looked up at her and said softly, "Please be careful..."

Her face softened and she said, "I will. You worry too much." He squeezed her hand once, then let it go before she could accuse him of anything. She kissed the top of his head, walked over toward the door, then let herself out of the house.

He stared at the phone for a moment, then got up and headed toward the kitchen. It was almost noon and he decided that he wanted lunch. The only problem was that he wasn't very hungry. He was too nervous about the next phone call he'd be making.

Al cut a slice of bread, buttered it, and slathered jam on it. He ate slowly as he thought about what he'd say and how he'd convince the colonel to tell him the truth. When he returned to the phone, he hadn't decided on anything definite, and so he sat there and stared at the phone, trying to gather the courage to make the call.

* * *

Ed scribbled what was supposed to be his signature at the bottom of the report, then groaned and let his head drop to the desk with a 'thunk'. He'd been reading and signing requests and reports all morning, though he'd been interrupted here and there by a phone call from this or that person wanting Ed to approve or verify. Hawkeye had also been by twice to remind him that he needed to head over to the logistics building sometime to verify something Mustang had approved a few weeks ago.

He turned his head and stared at the filing cabinets. This was the most _boring_ job he'd ever done... Ed could see why Roy would have taken it though. It kept him up to date on almost everything that was going on in Central when it came to the everyday affairs of the military, and he could also keep in contact with some higher ranking officers as well because he had to report parts of his job to specific higher ranking officers. Even though he could understand it, Ed still thought it was dreadfully dull. The every day workings of the military definitely wasn't anything to get excited over.

Suddenly the door slammed open and Ed heard, "Okay, birthday boy, time for some grub!" Ed lifted his head and the paper he'd been laying on stuck to his cheek for a moment before falling gently back down to the desk. Breda was standing in the doorway with Falman behind him. "Well?" the man said impatiently. "What are you waiting for? I'm starving."

"You just want to see your girlfriend," Ed heard Havoc say from somewhere in the hall.

"Shut it," Breda growled. "At least I _have_ a girlfriend."

Ed quickly got out of his chair and was starting toward the door when he heard, "Asshole," muttered from Havoc.

"How's your first real day goin'?" Breda asked him.

Ed grunted. "I thought there was no way I could want Mustang back more than I did."

Breda pressed his lips for a moment, then said in a quietly serious tone, "We're working on it." Ed nodded, then Breda said more boisterously, "Alright! We just need Hawkeye and we'll be ready to take off!"

Ed was shutting the door when the phone rang. He paused, wondering if he should go answer it, but Havoc grabbed his arm and began pulling him away from the office. "If it's important, they'll call back."

* * *

Envy shrugged his shoulders as he walked along the road. He'd taken this current form for many reasons, and it suited him well enough for the time being. Of course, he'd needed to switch forms while he'd been among the soldiers, but that had also served a purpose, and he was sure the soldiers would be where he wanted them today.

He smiled to himself in eager anticipation. If all went well, then he'd be out of Rizembool by tonight or tomorrow with that man's son in tow. Just the thought of that man caused him to scowl darkly. That man's flesh and blood shouldn't be allowed to live, but as much as he wanted to shred them both to pieces, Envy knew that this was better.

Yes, better to use them towards the end goal. At least the younger one wasn't as annoying—disgustingly naïve, but not annoying, and he could deal with that. He smiled again. For now, at least he could deal with it.

He looked up and saw the Rockbell home off in the distance—perhaps a fifteen minute or so walk—and much closer was the girl—Winry. Envy's grin grew. She was right on schedule. He'd be glad to get this over with. His first choice would have been to take on Alphonse's form and do some serious fucking around with both her mind and body, but...

But...

But, that would most likely give him away, and he wanted Alphonse's full cooperation. It had to be that way.

Winry saw him now, and at the displeased look on her face, Envy smiled even more broadly. He even waved his hand and gave her a cheerful greeting, but she walked past him without a word. He smirked. She hated him; it was so obvious, but he didn't care. In fact, it made this all that much more pleasant.

When he got to the Rockbell home about fifteen minutes later, Envy schooled his facial features to something more distressed, then maneuvered the stairs to the porch easily, opened the door, and let himself inside.

* * *

Al sighed as the phone rang for the twentieth time, then hung up. He should have known no one would be there at this time of the day. Getting a hold of someone at Central Headquarters during lunch was almost impossible, though Lieutenant Hawkeye was often around during this time even if the colonel wasn't.

Shrugging his shoulders, Al decided that he'd call later. Right now he wanted to work on his array a bit more. Reaching into his pocket, Al pulled out his gloves, slipped them on, then examined them thoughtfully. The more he worked on the array, the more he was convinced that not only would he not be able to modify it for anything other than transferring his soul, but that he was probably the only one who would be able to use this array.

It would make sense really. His soul had been detached from his body for so long. The only way to find out if the array worked for someone else would be to have them try it, but neither Winry nor Pinako were alchemists, and though Russell did know some alchemy, that wasn't his strong point and Al wasn't sure if he'd be able to work something this complicated.

As if the mere thought of the other teen had conjured him, the door opened and Russell walked in. "You're back," Al said, getting up. He was about to ask how his trip had gone, when he got a better look at Russell's face. Frowning, he said, "What's wrong?"

"Soldiers..." Russell said seriously. Al's frown deepened. Soldiers were just what they didn't need, though the thought suddenly occurred to him that perhaps if Russell had run into some soldiers while he was away, he'd be more open to leaving and going to Central with Al.

"What happened?" Al asked.

"Where's Winry?" Russell asked quickly, looking around.

"She just left to go pick up a few things..." Al said slowly and when Russell's face took on a stricken look, Al's heart seemed to drop into his stomach. "Why...?" he whispered unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"I heard some soldiers talking about being ordered to wait on the road for 'some blonde mechanic girl' and when they got her..." Russell trailed off and looked away.

"And when they got her, what?" Al asked quickly, his voice rising in panic. The whole world seemed to be spinning around him and it was hard to get his breath. His palms were sweating in nervous apprehension and it seemed to take years for Russell to turn his head and look at him. Fear and despair were plastered on his face in a way that made Al want to vomit. He took in a deep breath, then pushed Russell aside and ran out of the house. He could vaguely hear Russell yelling that he was coming too, but it didn't register in his brain.

He had to get to Winry; had to find her before those solders did. Damn the military. Damn Archer and Kimblee! He was sure this was their doing. If only Winry had listened to him! Just the thought of any harm coming to her made him increase his pace. She hadn't left too long ago. He should be able to make it in time...

* * *

Winry's step faltered when she saw the five rough-looking soldiers in the road, but pressed her lips together and continued walking. They had nothing to do with her. Soldiers were a common sight in Rizembool now, and they were probably just slacking off. She heard them snickering, and she tried to avoid looking at them. Just walk normally. She wouldn't let their mere presence intimidate her.

"Hey, girly," one of the men said in a leering tone. She ignored him and quickened her step. She felt one of the soldiers grab her arm and suddenly she was turned toward them. "I don't like being ignored," the soldier hissed.

He tightened his grip on her arm, making her wince. "Let go of me!" she demanded.

The soldier, a tall man with curly black hair, laughed loudly. "What do think, boys? Should I let her go?"

The others laughed, and one said with a dirty sneer, "Not before we get to know her a little bit."

Gritting her teeth, Winry used one of the self-defense moves Al had taught her and was able to free herself. She turned and ran as fast as she could but after only a few moments she was pushed roughly to the ground. She instantly felt hot, stinging pain at her elbows and knees, as well as a dull ache in her hip where she'd landed on a large rock. She could feel pain in her cheek and on her chin; and as she breathed dirt, got into her nose and mouth. She thrashed, trying to free herself, but the man on top of her was too strong.

"Well, well..." the dark-haired soldier said. His boots entered her line of vision before he crouched down far enough so that she could see his face. "You really are a wild thing, aren't you?" He reached over and touched her cheek. She jerked her head, trying to get away from his touch, but hands were holding her tightly and she couldn't move.

He moved his finger to her lips, pushed it inside of her mouth, and licked his lips with a lecherous grin—at least, until Winry bit him. With a curse, the man pulled back and inspected his finger before glaring fiercely at her.

"Let's get this bitch into position. She needs to learn her place," he growled while looking at her. The man on top of her pulled her back and she fought to get free; the other soldiers moved in to help keep her from getting away.

"_HELP_!" she screamed loudly. "SOMEBODY! HELP!" If she was lucky then someone would be nearby, but there was only a fifty percent chance of that. She opened her mouth to scream again, but one of the men put a hand over her mouth so that what did come out was muffled.

"Open her legs," the black-haired man said roughly, and as much as she tried to fight it, her legs were pried open at her knees. She screamed again, and could feel warm saliva inching between the man's hand and the skin below her mouth. She thrashed, and through sheer luck was able to free one of her legs long enough to kick the black-haired man in the face.

"YOU CUNT!" he roared. She saw his face for only a moment—long enough to see blood gushing from his nose—before he drove a fist down into her stomach. All of the breath left her and her vision went dark as she was filled with pain. Hot tears ran unbidden down her face as she gasped desperately for breath.

She felt hands grab at her pants, but the next moment she heard, "GET AWAY FROM HER!" shouted from somewhere behind her.

"You can have her when we're done, little boy. Now get the hell out of here," one of the soldiers called back.

_Alphonse..._ she cried, though it was only mentally. Her vision was only beginning to come back, but she could tell that the black-haired man was standing. His mouth opened to say something, but whatever it was that he was going to say was replaced by a shout as the ground beneath him rose up and knocked him over. In the next moment, the ground around her fell a little and the men holding her let go in favor of scrambling for purchase.

* * *

After drawing the arrays in the dirt and getting the men away from Winry, Al rushed forward and began fighting with the closest soldier. Hot fury filled him at seeing his beloved treated in such a manner. He couldn't remember ever feeling such intense rage.

The first soldier went down easily, but the second was much more skilled in hand-to-hand combat. The other two soldiers were trying to surround him, but he kept moving to keep them from it. Suddenly Russell was at his side, fighting off the soldiers with a long pipe.

"Al!" was shouted over the commotion and he looked to see the first man—the one with black, curly hair—trying to get at Winry. Red filled his vision for a moment, and for a second he couldn't concentrate. That was the man who had tried to rape her. Primal fury drove his thoughts and actions. That man... he deserved to die... Rushing forward, Al threw away all caution and morals, moved quickly within the man's guard, pressed his gloved hands against the man's face, and activated the arrays.

The world around him seemed to darken as he was in two places at once. The soldier in front of him screamed and pushed roughly away and held his head as he paced on the road. Al could see it all so clearly, but it was muffled and flat. He could also see things from the man's point of view, which made the scream even louder than it would have been.

He was inside the soldier's mind. He tried to concentrate on what was happening, but the world around his view was mixing in a confusion of colors, sights, and sounds, then for a moment he could only see out of the soldier's eyes before he was surrounded by a dark place...

The world seemed to shift around him, but it wasn't the world... Scenes from this man's life quickly passed by him, and thoughts rang in his ears. He stood and saw the man in front of him. The man saw him and shouted at him to go away, that he didn't belong here—and he was right. Al didn't belong here, yet he _was_ here, and he was here because this man had tried to hurt Winry...

With strength born of anger and cold rage, Al began walking toward the man. "Get out!" the man shouted again, and Al could see that the man was debating on whether he should run or try to fight. Finally, the man decided on fighting and a long sword appeared in his hand. "I'll kill you!" the man shouted as he rushed forward.

Al evaded the attack easily, and knocked him down with a swift kick. He might not be able to make things appear out of thin air—he didn't belong here—but he knew how to fight. As the man scrambled to get back up, Al moved over ands slowly picked up the sword. It felt so real and heavy in his hand, but was it?

When the man saw that he'd taken the weapon, he fell back on his rear and looked up at Al in undisguised terror. Al wondered if he should feel something for this man, maybe compassion or understanding, but he didn't. He felt nothing for him, and didn't want to either. He wouldn't allow this man to ever hurt anyone like he'd tried to hurt Winry. Not ever again. Right now he felt he was in the right, he was justice, and he would be the one to deliver judgment because no one else would. Right now he felt powerful. Right now... he felt like a god.

"Good-bye..." Al said to the man in a voice that almost seemed too hollow and unfeeling to be his own, then thrust the sword into the man's chest. The man's mouth opened wide as he tried to breathe in and blood flowed from his mouth. Hands reached up to grab the blade as if he could still save himself, but he couldn't, and the light went out in the man's eyes.

The shifting and the thoughts around Al ceased and there was silence and a cold, empty whiteness. Everything was gone. The room remained, but there was nothing; and then, as quickly as he'd come to this place, he was gone and all that remained was darkness.


	43. Consummation

-

**Descent **

**Chapter Forty-Three**

**Consummation**

**-  
**Al was aware of his surroundings before he opened his eyes. He knew he was inside, and that there were people around him. It wasn't just the fact that he could hear their footsteps against the wooden floor, or the shifting of their bodies; it wasn't even the fact that he could hear them breathing.

He could _feel_ them—feel their presence—and it was very acute, just like when he'd first gotten his body back. Al felt as if he'd been deprived of all his senses for a long time and now, finally, he'd gotten them back; yet it was more than all of that. It was as if he was one interwoven piece of everything and everything was contained inside of his singular existence.

All is one, and one is all.

The phrase had such a deeper meaning to him at the moment than it ever could have.

And then... it was gone.

The awareness was gone and he felt as he always had.

Slowly, Al opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He blinked once, twice, then on the third time a worried face filled his view. Long, golden hair streamed down and lightly tickled his cheek.

He smiled softly. "Am I dead?" he croaked, beginning the banter that would end up with him calling her an angel and her firmly denying it, then instantly realized that was not the right thing to say as her face screwed up and great tears gathered in Winry's eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

"Don't even _joke_ about it..." she whispered, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Sorry..." he murmured guiltily. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but she was holding him in a way that his arms were pinned to his sides. When she finally let go, Al sat up and inspected himself, then took note of his surroundings—one of the rooms at the Rockbell house—before looking up at her and asking, "What happened?"

"Why don't you tell us?" a male voice said.

Al looked away from Winry to the opposite end of the room where Russell was standing in a corner with his arms crossed.

"I..." Al began, then looked down at his gloved hands and frowned. He'd gone after Winry, and then there were those men... then... He could recall the rage and... Like a hammer slamming against his head, it hit him. He felt the blood rush from his cheeks and nausea gathered in the pit of his stomach. "That man..." he whispered.

"He's still alive," Russell said flatly, almost in displeasure. "I've hidden him somewhere. When he wakes we can get some information out of him. The rest of the men are dead."

Al looked up. "Dead?" How could they be dead, Al wondered. He'd only knocked out the ones he'd fought...

"He killed them..." Winry said softly. Al turned to look at her and he could see disapproval and horror mixed in her features.

"I did what I had to," Russell said simply. "You should be thanking me." To that, Winry swallowed and looked down at her hands.

Al looked at Russell and said, "The other man..." His voice caught in his throat and he couldn't continue because he knew... he _knew_ that the man couldn't possibly be alive. He knew that because...

"He's been asleep since whatever you did to him," Russell said nonchalantly. "We'll have to kill him after we question him." By the tone of his voice, it was as if he was suggesting they take a walk or read a book; nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to suggest they would stop another person from existing.

"He's already dead..." Al whispered, then hunched his shoulders in and squeezed his eyes shut. Confused visions of being inside the man's mind swirled around him and he could see himself, driven by rage and by some primitive urge, driving the sword down into the soldier...

"He's still breathing," Russell stated flatly. "I know when people are alive and when they're dead."

"No..." Al whispered. He clutched the blankets tightly in his fists. "He... Maybe his body is still alive, but _he_ is dead. He'll never wake up..."

Al felt sick. He'd _killed_ someone... He'd let the rage and the pain take over and he'd used his alchemy—_his_ array—to destroy someone. That man's mind was empty, his soul was gone. All that was left was the life in the body. The organs worked, and the heart still pumped blood, but... but, when it came right down to it, that man was dead.

"That's... unfortunate..." Russell said slowly, and Al opened his eyes and looked up at him to see that he was being inspected very closely. Russell looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "You know, they're going to find out what happened. You can't hide it forever. They'll find out we killed those men, and then we'll be arrested and put to death; that is, unless you agree to work with that pale slug that's in charge here. I'm sure he'd _love_ to make a deal with you." Al couldn't miss the contempt in Russell's voice when he spoke of Archer.

"Al didn't kill anyone!" Winry said sharply. "Maybe _you_ should leave! This could have been handl—"

"Winry," Al said, cutting her off. "I..." he glanced at her, then looked down at his hands. He turned them so that he could see the arrays drawn on the gloves, and the desire to rip them from his hands and throw them across the room filled him. "I killed that man. I was... inside of him—inside his _head_. I used my alchemy to put part of my soul into him and I... I..." He couldn't continue. He felt too ashamed. Al squeezed his hands together and closed his eyes tightly, but opened them when he felt hands on his. He looked up at Winry and saw concern in her eyes.

"We'll work something out," she said and petted his hand. She continued in an almost desperate tone. "Don't worry, Al. That man is still breathing, so he can't _really _be dead, right? But we know _he_ killed the other ones...

"Didn't you hear me, woman?" Russell said angrily. "Didn't you hear _him_? The man is dead. _All_ the men are dead. He's just as guilty as I am. If you think they won't find out, that they won't come for us, you're stupider than I thought. We have to leave—tonight... tomorrow morning at the latest."

Winry grabbed onto Al's hands and pulled them to her chest before burying her face into them. "No..." she murmured, and Al pulled them away so that he could wrap them around her shoulders. "Please don't go..." she sobbed into his chest as he held her tightly. "Please..." He held her tightly and reached up with one hand to pet her hair.

"We shouldn't leave tonight," Al said, looking up at the window. It wasn't dark yet, but it looked to be late in the day; and, by the time they got everything together, it would be dark. "It will look more suspicious if we leave tonight, and it will be more dangerous because of the curfew." He looked at Russell and, knowing what the answer would be, he asked, "Where were you thinking we should go?"

"The People's Army can protect you," Russell said simply.

"No!" Winry exclaimed, moving away from Al to glare furiously at Russell.

"Maybe you would prefer him to be captured by the military?" Russell said snidely. "I'm sure they'd treat him _real_ nice."

Winry stood and pointed at him. "This is all _your_ fault! We were fine until _you_ came!"

"_MY_ fault?" Russell said mockingly. "Who was it who wanted to be independent and didn't want anyone to protect her when she went out?"

When Al saw the stricken look on Winry's face, he got off the bed and held up his hands. "That's enough, both of you!" They looked at him, and he rubbed his eyes with his hands. "Look... what if we went to Central? I've been planning on going there anyway."

"Great idea," Russell said sarcastically. "Let's go directly to the military's main city of operations. Why didn't _I_ think of such a brilliant plan?"

Al dropped his hands and looked at Russell blandly. "Okay, you have a point," he conceded, then sighed and sat on the bed.

Would it be better to leave Rizembool for a time? Probably. Mostly likely it wouldn't take the military too long to figure everything out. Should he go to the People's Army for sanctuary? That was the hard question. He could probably stay on the run or live in a secluded spot for an indefinite amount of time, but...

He looked up at Winry, then to Russell. "I'm not joining the People's Army," he stated firmly. "But..." He looked at Winry. "If they'll hide me and protect me for a time..." Winry's lips trembled and fresh tears appeared in her eyes. "If they'll protect me, then I'll go," Al finished quietly.

"They will," Russell said confidently.

Tears spilled over onto Winry's cheeks and Al said, still with his gaze on Winry, "Russell, would you leave us alone for a while?" The only answer was the sound of Russell's boots on the floor behind him, then the sound of the door closing.

"Winry..." Al said softly, then reached over and grabbed her hand to pull her to the bed. "He's right. It's dangerous for me to be in Rizembool now."

"No, he's wrong," she said stubbornly. "If you leave now, then you'll look like you're guilty!"

"I _am_ guilty," he said wretchedly, guiding her to sit on the bed next to him. Memories of what had happened threatened to invade his mind, and he roughly shoved them away. He couldn't think of that, couldn't think of what he'd done. Not now. Right now he had to think of surviving. He didn't have time to greave or wallow in self-pity.

"And even if I wasn't," he continued, "I wouldn't put it past Archer to find a way to blame it on me." Al hugged her close, then began rubbing her back as she cried. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he froze in horror. "What if he sent those soldiers out to get you? What if he _wanted_ something like this to happen...? He'll know, Winry. He'll know."

She pulled away from him and stared at him fearfully. "Do you really think they came because of him?"

"I don't know... but it's a good chan—" he began.

"Let me come with you," she cut in suddenly.

He stared at her in shock. "What?"

"Let me come with you," Winry repeated. "I don't want to be separated from you. I don't want to wait, not knowing if you're okay, or wondering if you'll ever come back. I just... I can't..."

"You can't come," Al said, shaking his head. "It could be dangerous."

"And it's not dangerous here?" she asked incredulously. He let out a sound of exasperation, stood up, and walked toward the window. The sun was low in the horizon and at the perfect angle to shine directly in his eyes. He turned his back to the window and faced her.

"You were attacked because of me. You said so yourself that you were probably safer without me near you. I think you'll be safer if I left you here."

"But—" she began and stood up. She was getting ready to argue the point, but he lifted his hand to silence her.

"Do you think I _want_ to leave you?" he breathed in frustration. "I... I _need_ you, Winry. You are my life; my _everything_. I need you like I need air." He paused. "But I also need to know that you're safe. I did what I did today because of my desire to protect you. I... I can't go knowing that I'm leading you into a more dangerous situation. _Please_..." The last word was a plea for her to understand.

She stood there for a moment as if trying to decide if she should argue the point or not, then finally sat heavily on the bed in defeat. "Okay..." she whispered. "Okay, but... please... promise me you'll come back..."

He sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. "I'll come back. I promise."

* * *

Ed flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes. His first 'real' day doing Roy's job had been exhausting, yet good at the same time. He'd been out of the office for almost four hours for his 'birthday lunch' which had more been like a 'birthday feast'.

But more than the food, it had been _fun_—something Ed hadn't really had much of recently. There had been a lot of joking and laughter along with all the food. It was strange to see all of the officers out of the job setting. Sure, he'd talked to them outside of work, but it had been because of work or something that involved work.

Ed smiled as he remembered how they'd all been so relaxed. Breda flirted with his girlfriend whenever she came to bring them something, and she, in turn, flirted with both Havoc and Falman in a way that made Ed think it was part of some inside joke. Hawkeye had chatted everyone up on the newest assortment of camping supplies available—apparently she loved camping and hunting—and Ed noticed that Havoc seemed a little more friendly toward her than he was used to seeing. In fact, if Ed didn't know better, he'd guess that Havoc had some sort of crush on Hawkeye; which was completely absurd, but there it was.

He sighed and opened his eyes. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to have Roy there. Doctor Knox had said the military couldn't keep information about Roy secret for too much longer without it becoming a big deal, so he waited and hoped. Sure, he knew the other officers were working to find out any information they could, but...

Ed closed his eyes again and yawned. His only hope was that when the military did release information on Roy, it wouldn't be to say that he was dead.

* * *

Al looked up from where he was closing his suitcase, and said slowly, "Say that... again..."

"I want to get married before you go," Winry repeated from where she stood in the doorway.

He only stared at her as thoughts of guest lists and food swirled in his mind. "I... don't know that we'll be able to get everything put together by morning... I mean, how will everyone get here in time and—"

"I don't care about all of that," Winry interrupted walking fully into the room. "I don't care about all of that other stuff."

"But... it's your wedding day, it's... it's supposed to be special, right?" Al said, not sure what to say about this new development. "We won't be able to do anything special if we get married so soon..."

"I talked to granny and she called the mayor (1). He said that he could be here first thing in the morning to perform the ceremony."

"But... _why_?" Al asked, sitting down on his bed and studying her. "I mean, this isn't exactly the ideal time."

She looked down and threaded her fingers together. "Because..." she said softly, "I want you to have a reason to come back. I want you to have family here..."

Standing up, Al moved the suitcase to the floor, then scooted over and wrapped his arms around her. "You _are _my family, even if it's not official. Don't worry, I'll come back," he whispered. "I promise." He could feel her body shaking slightly and he held her close.

"Please, Al... I don't care about having a big fancy wedding, all I want is you. I just want to have something to hold onto while you're gone."

He kissed the top of her head and stepped back to see tears in her eyes. Guilt flooded through him because, as much as he was trying to give her reasons to wait, getting married now appealed very much to his selfish side. It meant that she would be officially taken and that no one would be able to steal her away from him while he was gone...

"Are you sure?" he asked again. "I don't want you to regret it later."

"I'm sure," Winry said, wiping at her eyes. "I already have all the alterations done on the dress, so we have everything we need."

Then it dawned on him. "Eh... I don't have all the materials to make your ring..." Al mumbled, feeling like a complete loser.

"I have _this_ ring," she said, touching her hand. "I don't need any other."

"But, I wanted you to have something _really_ nice," he pressed. He'd paid a lot of attention to the wedding bands women wore since proposing, and he'd noticed that most of them were very nice and usually quite expensive. Not that the cost mattered to him. He was an alchemist and he could simply _make_ a ring of any design for Winry. All he needed were the right materials.

She shook her head. "It's not the ring that matters." She held up her hand with the ring he'd made for her out of the automail bolts. "You made this ring for me out of love and you used material from something else that I love. I can't imagine any other ring that would be better than this one." She closed her hand into a fist and held it to her chest.

Al breathed out slowly, then said, "Alright, let's do it tomorrow morning."

She smiled and hugged him tightly. "I'll go let granny know," she breathed in his ear. She moved to go, then stopped and took a gold earring out of each of her ears and placed them in his hand. "Will you use those to make your ring?" she asked softly. "So you'll always have something of mine to be with you..."

He looked down at the two small hoop earrings, then held them tightly in a fist. "Of course..." he said, then looked at her. He was touched that she would think of it and, on impulse, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled, then hurried out of his room.

With a small sigh, Al sat down on his bed and stared down at the two earrings in disbelief. Tomorrow he would have a wife; the start of his own family. It seemed so... unreal. He felt elated; yet, at the same time, he felt devastated. Tomorrow he'd be leaving his new wife as well... Life just didn't seem fair sometimes...

* * *

Winry sighed and turned over in her bed. She couldn't sleep. She'd been trying for hours, but her mind was too busy. All she could think of was Al; Al leaving, Al going away to where the rebels were, Al being caught by the military, Al killing that man without harming his body, and her... being alone without him...

It was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She wiped at them and tried hard not to cry. This was what was best, but it still hurt and she was still afraid...

A small knock sounded on her door and she sat up in her bed. She frowned, wondering who it could be. The knock came again and she got out of bed and started carefully toward the door. The room was lit softly by the moon outside, but the floor was still pretty dark and she never really kept her room very tidy.

"Who is it?" she whispered through the door. If it was Russell, she'd turn the lock on the doorknob and go back to bed.

"It's me," came Al's voice.

She opened the door and whispered, "Al? What—" But she didn't get the chance to finish before Al was gently pushing his way inside and shutting the door behind him.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, a small amount of concern in his voice, though Winry didn't think he sounded too sorry about the chance that he might have wakened her.

"No," she said. "But it is kind of late for you to be here in my room..." Winry wondered it if it would be alright if she just grabbed him and held onto him for the rest of the night. After all, they were getting married in the morning. It couldn't be _too_ improper, could it?

"Ah, yeah, I know..." Al said, and he sounded embarrassed. "I just... I couldn't sleep... I keep thinking about what happened and..." He trailed off, then shook his head and said, "I've also been thinking about something other than that and thought I'd see what you thought so that's why I came here, but I can leave if you want." His voice continued to increase in nervousness and speed until she almost couldn't understand what he was saying.

She yawned, then turned and started toward her bed. "Let's sit down."

After she sat on her bed, Winry looked up at Al's dark shape by the door. He was too far away now to make out his facial features in the darkness, but she could imagine the indecision playing out on his face. Finally he started toward the bed, but before he got there, he yelped as something clattered on the floor.

"Um, you might want to step carefully..." she murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Thanks for the warning..." Al muttered, then sat down beside her.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them for a moment, then they both spoke up at once, stopped at the same time, then laughed softly.

"You go first," Al said.

Winry shook her head. "No, you."

"Winry..." Al said in a soft and playful, warning voice.

"Alphonse..." she returned with a smile.

He shook his head, then looked down. She followed his gaze and saw that he was holding the two earrings she had given him earlier. "I've been thinking about this a lot," he said, indicating the earrings. "I... I don't feel right changing the composition of these. I mean, their look is part of what makes them part of you. I see them and I think of you, but I don't know if it would be as much so if I changed them into something else..."

She frowned, feeling slightly hurt. "So... you're saying that you're not going to use them?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Al returned. "I... well... I'd like to keep them in their original shape..." His voice trailed off and she waited. He was obviously wanting to say something, but was reluctant to as well.

"And..." she urged.

"You know, brother and I traveled a lot when we were looking for a way to make things right... We saw many places and met many different kinds of people. There were different styles in the different regions..." Again he trailed off, and glanced up at her.

Something clicked in her mind and her right eye twitched slightly. "You want to wear them as they are?" she asked flatly. She had also traveled a little with Ed and Al, and had seen a few places where men would wear earrings, but she'd never liked the look. Perhaps it was because that was something men just didn't do in Rizembool.

"Well... yeah... That's what I was thinking," Al said and he squirmed a little under her gaze.

"Granny won't like it," she stated.

"She'll get over it," Al said. Winry thought about that and had to concede mentally that he was right. Her grandmother had been more of a rebel when she was younger anyway, and was pretty level headed about things.

"People will talk..." she said, trying something else. "You know how people are here in Rizembool... They'll think you're some sort of... I don't know... _hooligan_..."

He chuckled. "It would fit my outlaw image."

She scowled. "Not funny."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. "Winry, you know I don't care what people think about me, and I know you tend to keep to yourself and don't get involved with the gossip and politics around here, so... what's the real reason?"

Winry was silent for a moment, then said, "I just... well... I don't like earrings on men..." When his face contorted into the wounded look of a kicked puppy, she pointed at him and said, "Don't."

"What?" he asked, looking sad and mournful.

"You're giving me that look."

"What look?" His face seemed to look even sadder.

"_That_ look," she said and poked his face. "You know I hate it when you give me that look."

"Because you feel guilty," he stated.

"Yes! You make me feel guilty."

Al raised an eyebrow. "I can't _make_ you feel guilty. Admit it, you already feel guilty. This isn't about me making you feel anything."

She opened her mouth, then scowled lightly. "You, Alphonse Elric, have some nerve."

"You feel guilty," Al pressed with a smile.

Winry made a sound of exasperation, and snatched the earrings from his hand. Yes, she felt guilty because he obviously wanted to do it, but he wouldn't if she protested enough. She held the small loop earrings up to his earlobes and inspected him. He didn't look too bad... The color of the earrings sort of matched his hair, though not quite. They would have matched Ed's better, but the contrast didn't look too bad—but they were still earrings... on a man...

"Fine..." she grumbled and handed the earrings back. "Granny did mine, and it would probably be better if she did yours too."

He nodded, and she expected him to get up and leave, but he didn't. Instead, he stared at her for a time, then said softly, "I don't want to leave you... I don't want to leave Rizembool." He looked up at her. "And I don't want to leave you tonight..."

"Al..." she said, looking down. "I... We're not..."

"But we will be tomorrow," he said. "Let me stay with you tonight, please..."

She felt her face heat and was glad that the room was dark. Did he mean that he simply wanted to stay with her for the night, or did he mean...

"Winry..." he whispered. "Is it wrong that I don't want to wait until I come home?" She looked at him, but he was looking down at his lap. "I know we were taught to wait until we were married, but..." He sounded awkward and uncertain.

"I..." she murmured, not sure what to say. She felt excited, hesitant, embarrassed, and eager all at the same time. She wanted what Al wanted, but was it wrong that they didn't wait? She looked down, and said softly, "I want you to stay too..."

* * *

Al swallowed and felt his heart jump inside of him. He was elated that she wanted him to stay, but nervous at the same time. He wanted her so much, but he'd also never been with anyone before and was afraid he would do something wrong...

He leaned forward and set the earrings on the nightstand before moving his hand over and touching her cheek gently. She was so beautiful... He dropped his hand, afraid that she would notice that he was shaking, and leaned in to kiss her softly.

Winry smiled at that and glanced shyly at him. He reached up again and touched her long, golden hair. With the way it shined in the soft moonlight, she really _did_ look like an angel. He leaned in again; this time to kiss her lips. He'd only kissed her on the lips a handful of times, and each time was no less wonderful, but this time the kiss seemed to hold so much more.

Slowly, he moved his tongue out against her lips and they parted easily to let him inside. _This_ type of kissing was something they had never done before. It was to be saved for marriage, that's what they'd always been taught.

His groin ached with need as his tongue explored her mouth, and he gently pushed her onto her back. She was always much more domineering than him, always much more assertive; but in this, she easily gave that up and let him guide how it would go.

Al ended the kiss and pulled back a little. She had moved her feet up onto the bed during the kiss and was now laying across the bed with him leaning over her. She looked so good...

He licked his lips nervously and rested his hand timidly on her stomach, then slid it up to touch one of her breasts. It felt full and firm under his palm. He had to open his mouth to get enough air, and he moved his hand back down to her stomach and to the hem of her nightshirt, then slipped his hand underneath. He touched her breasts again, then glanced at her nervously to see if he was doing alright. Winry's breathing was short and shallow, but by the wanting look on her face, he guessed that she was enjoying his touch.

Suddenly he felt a little panicked. What did he do now? Was there a specific way that one went about having sex? Did he just get between her legs and do it like the farm animals did? His face heated at the thought. It just seemed like there should be more between human beings. He slid the night shirt up over her breasts so that he could look at them, and noticed that she turned her head away in embarrassment.

"I can put it back on..." he said shakily, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"No... it's fine..." she whispered. "I just..." She never finished, but Al thought he understood. This was all new to him too. He swallowed and glanced back at her breasts. He thought he could stare at them forever and moved to gently pinch her nipples with fingers. She gave a little moan, and he wondered again if he'd done something wrong, but dismissed the thought immediately given that she hadn't told him to stop.

After spending a few more minutes groping her chest, Al thought maybe he should just get down to the sex part. If there was something else he was supposed to be doing, Al didn't know and he sure didn't want to ask. He could... but... he wanted her to think that he knew what he was doing; even if he didn't.

He reached down and nervously touched her crotch through her panties, then studiously avoided glancing up at her face while he slid the panties down her legs. Embarrassment and excitement flowed through him and he couldn't stop thinking to himself that he was actually going to do this with her. He was actually touching her and he was really going to...

Al knelt between her legs and peered closely at her crotch through the darkness. He sort of wished he could turn on the light and inspect her, but he had a feeling that now was definitely not the time to get studious. He'd studied the female anatomy in the medical texts Pinako owned, so he knew what was there, but he'd never actually...

"Al...?" Winry said nervously, and he cleared his throat as he realized he'd been sitting and staring at her instead of doing anything.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He glanced up at her face and saw that she was looking a little worried and unsure. Feeling a little panicked now, he put his hand on the waistband of his pajama pants, then paused. He felt a little nervous at taking his pants off around her, even if she wasn't looking direction at him. He shook his head at himself. He was being dumb. He'd undressed her and she was probably just as embarrassed as he was...

Sliding his pajama pants down to his knees, Al moved in close to her. He knew the mechanics of how this was all supposed to work, the rest were just details... Or at least, that was what he told himself.

He looked down at his erection, then took a hold of it and guided it toward her. He had to feel around a little to find the right spot because it was so dark, then he pressed the head against her and pushed it in a little. He frowned when it didn't go in as smoothly as he thought it would, then felt worry grip him when she cried out a little and held tightly onto the sheets.

"Are you okay...?" he asked, torn between the almost desperate need to continue, and not wanting to hurt her. It wasn't supposed to hurt... right? He reached down and touched her, feeling a little perplexed. All the texts he'd read said that women produced a natural lubricant down there...

"I..." Winry whimpered a little. "Yeah... I guess so, just... go slower..."

Al bit back a groan. Go _slower?_ He was barely holding himself back as it was. What he really wanted to do was grab her hips and thrust hard into her. He bit gently on his lower lip as he pushed in a little more. He looked up and saw that she was gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Winry..." Al said in worry. "I can stop..." He said it, but he wasn't so sure that he could. His hands were shaking and his body was begging him for release. _Please say no, please say no..._ he thought.

"Just... Just push it in..." she breathed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling guilty that he was glad she was telling him to do that.

"Yes, I'm sure," she panted. "Maybe it will be better after you have it all the way in."

He swallowed nervously, torn between what he wanted and his fear of hurting her. But she'd said it was alright, his mind and body seemed to shout at him.

"Al..." she whimpered and reached out for him. He slid his arms under her, and pressed his lips firmly against hers as he pushed into her. Her yell was muffled by his mouth, but he almost didn't take notice of it as he climaxed hard in that moment. He was somewhat aware of her clawing at his back, the stinging it caused, and warm liquid beginning to trickle down his back, but none of that was as important as the amazing amount of pleasure he was feeling.

But it didn't last long and reality began to slowly creep into his mind. The pain in his back flared hot and sharp, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the guilty feeling clutching at his heart as Winry sobbed into his chest.

"I'm sorry..." he whimpered and hugged her tightly. He had no idea what he could have done wrong. None of the texts he'd read had said that it would hurt... She wasn't supposed to hurt...

"It's not your fault," she murmured tearfully. "Just... just finish, please..."

He cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I am done..." then pulled out.

She moaned and curled up into a ball, then said with a sniffle, "I thought it was supposed to last longer..."

Al pulled up his pajamas, and moved to the nightstand to light the candle. He'd supposed it was supposed to last longer too... He lasted longer with his hand than he had doing this... After he lit the candle, Al looked back at her, then gasped sharply. There was a fair amount of blood on the sheets, and he was sure it wasn't from the scratches on his back.

"You're bleeding!" he choked, then frantically looked around as if medical supplies were going to just pop up out of nowhere.

"Oh yeah... I remember granny saying..." Winry began, sounding a little embarrassed, then trailed off. She grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around herself, and dashed quickly out of the room.

Al stared at the open door in shock. What did she mean by 'oh yeah'? Then it dawned on him, and he sat heavily on the floor. Unfortunately, there was a screwdriver in the spot he landed and he yelped before moving to a clear space of floor. She hadn't been with anyone else before... He'd read something about that in the textbooks, but he'd totally forgotten about it... He felt a little bit better knowing _that,_ at least, was normal. His heart was beginning to beat slower now that he knew she wasn't going to bleed to death from some mistake he'd made.

It was almost fifteen minutes later that Winry came back into the room and closed the door behind her. She was wearing loose pajama pants now and a different night shirt. She glanced at him, then looked away as color blossomed in her cheeks.

"I'm sorry..."

"For _what_?" Al asked. "I'm the one who should be sorry for hurting you..."

Her cheeks darkened even more and she sat down beside him. "I guess I just wasn't ready enough..." she murmured, not looking at him.

"I shouldn't have talked you into it..." Al said apologetically.

"I wanted it," Winry interjected.

"But you just said..." Al began, then trailed off, feeling confused.

"I meant... I guess I needed... um... more... eh..." she floundered, then looked away in embarrassment. "Never mind..." she mumbled.

He wanted to push her to tell him, but he felt like he'd done enough damage for one night. He felt like a total failure. Not only had he done it wrong, but he'd hurt her, _and_ he didn't even last past getting in...

Al looked up when he felt her kiss his cheek. She was smiling softly. "Let's forget about it and go to sleep, okay?"

"That the nice way of saying you want me to get out of your room?" Al muttered sullenly.

"No, it's me saying that I'm tired, and I just want you to hold me..." Her voice faltered and she blinked rapidly before looking away.

He kissed her and stood up, then, turning toward the bed, he grimaced. The sheets should probably be changed first... He glanced down at her, then hurriedly pulled the blanket up to hide what they'd just done before scooping her up in his arms, blowing out the candle, and carrying her toward the door.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh," Al murmured, as he carried her out of her room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He closed the door with his foot, moved over to his bed, and gently laid her on the mattress before moving to lay beside her. He kissed her lips softly, pulled the blanket up over both of them, then gathered her in his arms.

"I love you, Winry," he whispered softly, and kissed her again. "Next time will be better, I promise..."

She hugged him tightly and whispered back, "I love you too, Al; and don't worry, we have the rest of our lives to improve on that..."

* * *

1 – Since Rizembool is sort of a smaller community, I'm going to appoint the mayor to be the one who takes care of all weddings that aren't performed by a religious cleric.


	44. Till Death Do Us Part

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-Four**

**Till Death Do Us Part**

**-  
**The sun wasn't up yet before the bustle in the Rockbell house began. Al and Winry were woken by the sound of Pinako yelling through the house that 'everyone needed to get up and get ready for this damned wedding' and that Russell had better 'get his ass out of bed and come help in the kitchen'.

The two of them stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment before practically climbing over one another to get out of bed. Winry hurried to the door and peaked out. When she didn't see anyone, she looked back at Al and gave him a smile before hurrying out of the bedroom to scurry back to her own. She didn't exactly want her grandmother to find out that they'd spent the night together last night. It would just be too embarrassing; plus, she didn't know if she'd get a lecture for not waiting until they were married.

With the door closed behind her, Winry turned on the light and stood in the middle of her messy room, trying to decide what she needed to do next. Her brain was still asleep despite the fact that her body was fully awake.

"Dress..." she said, looking around. Yes, the dress... an excellent starting point. She rushed to her closet, stubbing her toe on one of her tools scattered on her floor in the process, then flung open the closet doors. She stared at the dress for a moment, then realized that she couldn't _possibly_ get in the dress without a shower...

Quickly grabbing some clean underwear and a towel, she rushed out of her room and through the house. "I'm showering!" she yelled loudly. "Don't anyone go to the side of the house!"

Winry raced outside to where they kept the shower(1) and shimmied out of her night clothes. The eastern horizon was barely beginning to lighten, and she was glad that it was summer. In the winter she would have needed to take a bath inside and that would have taken a lot longer.

She washed vigorously as she thought of all that she needed to do in just a couple of hours... before... Winry stopped her washing and stared down at the ground. Today was the day... She swallowed and wiped the streaming water from her face. In just a few hours she'd be married, and in just a few hours Alphonse would leave her... She felt like crying both from joy and from sorrow.

Winry didn't want to cry; didn't want to be weak.

Looking up at the sky, she forced the pain away. She would _not_ cry; at least, not right now. Today she would smile and she would rejoice that she was being married. She would be brave for Al. It wouldn't do to have him see her cry. Not when he didn't want to leave her either...

Taking a deep breath, Winry finished her shower, put on the clean underwear, wrapped the towel around her, and dashed back toward the house.

* * *

Alphonse held the earrings tightly in his hand as he walked into the kitchen. Pinako was rushing about the kitchen making breakfast. He could also see that she was putting some food together for him and Russell to take when they left. He bit gently on his lip. She was already so busy... Maybe he shouldn't ask...

But at that moment, Pinako caught sight of him and said in a brisk tone, "What is it?"

"Oh, eh... um..." At his stuttering, she stopped and stared at him expectantly. "It's nothing..." he finally said, deciding not to ask.

She folded her arms across her chest and smirked at him. "Now, you look here. I raised two boys and I got pretty damn good at knowing when they wanted something. Spit it out. I'm a busy woman."

"I know, that's why I—"

"Alphonse..." she said in a slight warning tone.

"Alright, well..." He took a deep breath, then said in a jumbled rush, "Winry gave me two of her earrings to make into a ring, but I just can't get myself to change their shape so I was thinking about wearing them the way she does, so if you could help me, I'd really be grateful."

Pinako raised an eyebrow and stared quietly at him for a moment, then said, "I wish you'd said something yesterday."

"I know," Al said, feeling guilty.

"You do know that we don't have a lot of time, don't you?"

"Of course..." He knew that better than anyone else.

She sighed and moved to wash her hands. "I'm not going to bother numbing your ears so it will be a little painful."

Al waved that away. "I can handle a bit of pain." It couldn't possibly hurt that much, he reasoned as he followed her out of the kitchen.

* * *

Winry hurried into the house and started toward the stairs, then stopped and rushed toward the kitchen. She'd completely forgotten about needing someone to help her with getting the dress put on and fastened. Originally, Winry had planned on having some of her female friends that she'd grown up with come and help her, but now she didn't think it would be a good idea. They'd want to know why Al was rushing off, and they were probably asleep right now anyway...

She stuck her head in the kitchen, not wanting to walk right in with just a towel if Russell was in there. Glancing around, she frowned when she didn't see granny; in fact, _no one_ was in there. Breakfast was half made and so was the food for Al and Russell's journey... Suddenly, from another room in the house, there was a loud yell. Winry turned quickly, recognizing the shout as Al's, then gasped in shock at seeing Russell standing right behind her. He was so close that they were almost touching.

Winry clutched at her towel, and took a step backward to increase the distance between them, then said irritably, "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

Russell raised an eyebrow and gave her a small smirk. "Is it my fault that you weren't paying attention?"

She scowled darkly, both at his tone and the condescending look he was giving her. "What do you want?" she asked, feeling angry.

He shrugged and moved past her. "I was asked to help with the food."

Winry opened her mouth to say something, then cut off when she heard quick footsteps coming toward them. A moment later, Pinako walked into the kitchen, then said, "Seriously. Men have no _real_ tolerance for pain." She turned to Winry and eyed her quickly before saying, "Hurry up, Winry. The mayor should be here in about thirty minutes."

"I'll need some help with the dress..." she said, feeling a little guilty for being a burden.

Pinako nodded. "Go and start getting ready. Let me finish breakfast so that the boys can eat and I'll be up to help you."

Winry nodded and hurried out of the kitchen. She glanced in the direction the yell had come from, then rushed up the stairs to her room. It hadn't hurt that bad when she'd gotten her ears pierced...

* * *

Al took a bite of his breakfast and tried to ignore Russell's look of amusement, but it was hard. It was almost as if he was enjoying the fact that Al's ears still hurt, and it took an effort not to whimper. He definitely should have done this last night when he could have had them numbed... Not that they hurt _horribly_... anymore... it was just that they still throbbed...

He took another bite, swallowed, then glared at Russell. "Say it," he growled. Russell raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. "Do I really look that stupid?" he asked, tired of the looks Russell was giving him.

With a smirk, Russell said, "Yes."

Al's mouth dropped open for a moment, almost in disbelief that his friend would be so brutally honest, then took one more bite before picking his plate up, dumping it in the sink, and leaving the kitchen. He rushed up the stairs and glanced at Winry's bedroom door before heading into his own bedroom. Shutting the door firmly, Al walked over to the mirror above the dresser and looked at himself.

He had to admit that the small hoop earrings did look a little funny on him, but that's just because he wasn't used to them, he was sure. Frowning, Al turned his head one way then another before groaning. He _did_ look strange.

The gesture of wearing them was meant to be sort of... _romantic_, but no one else seemed to think of it that way. Al gently touched one of the earrings, winced at the twinges of pain, then turned his attention to his clothes. He was dressed in nondescript traveling clothes; nothing to mark him as anything out of the ordinary, but sadly nothing like he'd imagined he'd get married in...

Pushing away from the mirror, Al sat heavily on the bed and stared dully down at the floor. It was almost so unfair that he had to leave; unfair that they had to rush things... Life had been going so smoothly before... What had happened...?

Winry seemed to blame Russell, but the idea was ludicrous. There was no way that Russell could have made him and Winry fight, or have caused the military to show up in Rizembool, or for those soldiers to be waiting on the road. It all just had to be a coincidence... right?

There was a knock on his bedroom door before it opened and Russell said, "The mayor is here."

Al looked up and studied Russell for a moment. Was he doing the right thing? What if the People's Army _wouldn't_ help him? What if Colonel Archer was waiting for Al to try fleeing from Rizembool so that he could say, 'See! This is proof that he's guilty!' Was this just a set up to get Al to join up with him? Some sort of twisted blackmail? And the People's Army... What if he never came back? What if something happened to him? Winry would be left a widow before she even had a chance to have a husband...

He looked over at his suitcase and wondered if he was doing the right thing by marrying her right now. Should he have said no to her? Even if he _should_ have, Al didn't know if he would have been able to. He wanted her to be happy; and by leaving, he was only bringing her sadness...

"Are you ready?" Russell asked, breaking into his thoughts. "If you're going to do this marriage thing, you should do it so we can leave. The sun is almost fully up and we should be leaving... not having a wedding. If you ask me, she was pretty selfish to have even suggested this." He sounded irritable, and Al gave him a dark glare.

Standing, Al grabbed his suitcase and said, "It's not selfish... You just don't understand..."

"Oh?" Russell asked, folding his arms. "Your life is in danger and she wants to stop and marry you first?"

"If anyone is being selfish, it's _me_," Al said. "If I would have just given in and let her come with us, then she wouldn't be asking for this." He sighed. "But I want her to be safe... I want to know she's safe..." He shook his head. "Besides... I want to get married right now too."

Al started to walk past Russell when he said softly, "What's wrong? You afraid someone will snatch her up while you're gone?" He stopped walking and ground his teeth together in frustration and anger. He wanted to say something against it, but that was the biggest reason that he'd agreed to it... "Perhaps, you're afraid she doesn't love you as much as she says she does?" Russell asked in a whisper.

Turning his head, Al glared at Russell angrily. The tone in Russell's voice suggested that he was amused by this line of thought, yet when Al looked at him, his face showed no such thing.

"Let's go down stairs," Al said tightly, then moving down the stairs. Now wasn't the time for this discussion... Winry _did_ love him! _As much as Ed?_ his traitorous mind asked. _Shut up!_ Al thought, walking out the door and down the steps from the porch.

"Where's the mayor?" he asked, looking around.

"Upstairs talking with Winry and Pinako," Russell responded, then grinned. "I got a look at her, by the way. She looks nice. Too bad you won't get to sample the goods before leaving." Al blinked, then scowled and tried to ignore Russell's comment, but his face was heating as he thought about what he and Winry had done last night.

There was a pause, then Russell said, "Oh, I see how it is..." Al looked at him. "You've _already_ had a taste. Tell me..." Russell leered and said more quietly, "Was she good?"

Al, seething now, grabbed Russell's shirt and pulled him close. "You'd better shut the hell up!" His breathing was short and labored, and his hands twitched to punch Russell out, but Russell merely laughed and stared Al in the eyes.

"Are you going to do to me what you did to that soldier?" he whispered with a grin.

Memories of being inside the soldier's mind—of killing him—flashed before Al's eyes and his grip on Russell loosened. He squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his head away before letting go of Russell completely.

"No..." he whispered roughly, trying to fight the bile that was burning his throat now. He'd never _really_ wanted to kill anyone. He'd never wanted it to happen... Al squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and clenched his fists. It was a lie—or rather, it wasn't the whole truth. He'd never wanted to kill anyone before, but in that moment of pure rage and desire to protect Winry, he _had_ wanted to kill that man.

But to have actually done it...

Al opened his eyes when he heard the door open and looked up to see the mayor and Pinako coming out and walking down the steps. Pinako stood off to one side of the steps and motioned for Russell to come stand by her. The mayor stood on the other side and studied Al with a disapproving frown before scratching at one of his ears and giving a forced smile.

"Are you ready?" the mayor asked, his voice pleasant, but with a small hint of dissatisfaction.

Part of him wanted to launch into an explanation about the earrings—he was sure that's why the mayor had frowned at him—but he had much more important things on his mind than what the mayor thought of him.

In nervous excitement, Al nodded and looked up at the porch expectantly. His heart beat quickly in his chest and his palms were sweating. Every second waiting for Winry to come out seemed like a thousand eternities. When the front door opened again, his heart stopped in his chest and Al could only stare in rapture as Winry walked out and started slowly down the steps.

Her blonde hair fell down her back and over her shoulders in wide curls from where it was pinned up at the back of her head. The simple, yet beautiful, white dress she was wearing had a scooped neck and long, flowing sleeves. The skirt of the dress was so long that it hid her feet from view. In her hands, Winry held a bouquet of wild flowers, held together with a white ribbon. Her eyes were fixed on his and a radiant smile lit her face.

As she stepped next to him, Al whispered, "You look... You're so..." He couldn't seem to find the words that fit, so fell back on, "You look like an angel..."

Instead of scowling, Winry smirked, "For someone who doesn't believe in a god, you sure do mention angels a lot."

He smiled softly. "I believe in you..."

She opened her mouth, closed it, then blushed and ducked her head in a way that was so demure and very un-Winry-like. "I believe in you too..."

The sound of a throat clearing sounded behind them, and Al looked to see Russell being elbowed hard by Pinako. She was obviously displeased with him trying to rush this special moment.

"Are the two of you ready?" the mayor asked.

Al looked at Winry. She was studying him with a bemused smile, and it was his turn to blush. She must be thinking he looked really stupid with the earrings... he thought self-consciously. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?

She looked at the mayor and nodded, then Al turned his attention to him as well and said, "Yeah, we're ready."

"Very good. Now, face each other and hold hands, if you please," the mayor said, slipping a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on and opening a small book.

Al and Winry turned and reached out for each other. With their hands joined, Al felt a lump form in his throat. They were creating a circle... Just like in alchemy... He smiled, wondering if Winry would laugh at him if she knew he was thinking of alchemy at a time like this.

The mayor cleared his throat, and said, "I usually prepare a speech when I perform wedding ceremonies, but I must say that with the timing, I wasn't able to do so. I might also be nosy and ask why the quick wedding; and why you, Alphonse, are leaving in such a hurry, but in these dark times, I think it's better not to know some things."

Al glanced at the mayor, feeling grateful, but also knowing that it was probably for the mayor's benefit as much as his and Winry's.

"Now, even though I don't have a speech prepared, I do have a few things I'd like to say to you. Right now, the two of you are beginning a great journey together, and there will be many hard times to come."

Al glanced at his suitcase and swallowed hard. There were _already_ hard times...

"But, there will also be good times as well," the mayor continued. "Cherish those moments. Cherish each other. Love each other and trust each other. Put the wants and needs of the other before your own, and try not to let the fire of your love go out over little rain drops of disagreement."

Winry glanced down and squeezed his hand, before looking up and giving him a smile that seemed as if it held pain as well as joy.

The mayor cleared his throat and continued. "Marriage is not to be taken lightly. The vows you take today are not to be abandoned when inconvenient or when life becomes too hard. You must bond together and support one another. You must learn to understand each other's differences and learn to compromise. And, in times of trial, you must turn to each other for comfort from life's storms, and no other."

_I could never be with anyone else..._ Al thought, gazing at Winry lovingly.

"Now... do you have rings?" the mayor asked.

"We've already exchanged them..." Winry said, holding up her hand, then, with a funny look on her face, reaching up and gently touching one of the earrings in Al's ear.

"I see," the mayor said, glancing emotionlessly at Al's ears. "In that case, I'll have the two of you exchange vows."(2) He turned to face Al more fully and said, "Alphonse Elric, do you take Winry Rockbell to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Al's throat constricted and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak. It seemed like such an obvious question. Why else would he be here if not for those reasons? He searched Winry's face, squeezed her hands, and choked, "No... Not just until death. Forever..." He squeezed her hands again. "I'll love you and cherish you _forever_..." Winry smiled and he could see a shimmer of tears in her eyes now.

Turning to Winry, the mayor said, "Winry Rockbell, do you take Alphonse Elric to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

A tear trickled down her cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a small squeak came out and she closed it. Swallowing hard and sniffling, she nodded, then whispered hoarsely, "Always."

"Then, as the mayor of Rizembool township and surrounding countryside, I pronounce you husband and wife." There was a slight pause, then a softer and more gentle, "You may now kiss your lovely bride, Mister Elric."

Al gazed silently at Winry for a moment trying to commit this moment to memory—the quiet morning; the soft and gentle breeze that made the strands of her hair tickle her delicate skin; her moist, but happy eyes staring lovingly at him... He never wanted to let her go... Swallowing back the lump that was forming in his throat, he stepped forward, gathered her in his arms, and gently pressed his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around him and held him back tightly. Al broke the kiss and hugged her, feeling both joyful and grief-stricken. There was nothing he wanted more desperately right now than to stay by her side...

"I love you..." he whispered in her ear. "I love you... so much... I wish... I..."

"I love you too," Winry whispered back, then sniffled a little. "Remember your promise..."

He pulled back and searched her face. She was smiling, but another tear was just escaping one of her eyes. Al reached up and brushed it away. "Please don't cry..." he said, his chest tightening painfully.

"It's because... I'm so happy..." she said; and though that might have been true, he doubted that was the only reason.

"Will you be alright?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," she said in that stubborn way of hers. "You'd better call me or send me a letter as soon as you can." It was more of a demand than a request and it made Al smile.

"I will."

Stepping back, Al shook the mayor's hand, then gave Pinako a hug before looking at Russell and reluctantly saying, "We'd better go..."

Russell nodded, then stuck out his hand. "Congratulations." Al shook it, then watched as Russell offered his hand to Winry. "Misses Elric, congratulations," he said. Winry gave him a distasteful look, but quickly shook his hand anyway.

Al picked up his suitcase and gave a heavy sigh. It seemed as if it weighed a hundred tons... Turning, he gave Winry another hug and kiss. "I have to go..." he said in a reluctant and breathy voice.

She nodded, and he turned and started down the road with Russell following him. Every step was agony and it took everything he had within himself not to throw his suitcase down and run back to his new wife, or to tell her that she could come along.

He had to keep her safe, and this was the best thing...

Stopping, Al turned and waved. Just one more look... Winry waved back with a smile on her face. He smiled back, then started away once more, feeling so very weak. She was so much stronger than he was...

* * *

Pinako watched as Al and Russell started away and blinked her eyes to make the stinging go away. So many of her family had been taken away by war, and though Alphonse said he wasn't joining with the rebellion, she knew how easy it was to get involved.

When Al stopped and waved to them from a distance, Pinako turned and watched as Winry lifted one of her hands and waved back with a smile on her face—though Pinako thought it looked forced.

Then, Al turned away and, after a moment, Winry's smile faltered and her hand fell down to her bouquet. Her other hand was already holding it tightly, but Winry wrapped the hand she'd waved with around it anyway. It seemed to be something she could do with her hands—something to keep them occupied.

Pinako looked back the way the two boys had gone. They were almost out of sight... A small sniffle caught her attention and she glanced back at Winry to see her clenching her teeth and fat tears silently falling down her cheeks. Then, after another short moment, Winry fell to her knees, doubled up on herself, and pressed her forehead against the ground. Large sobs shook her body and it seemed all the girl could do to not start wailing.

The mayor caught Pinako's attention long enough for him to let her know he would leave them alone, then she moved over to Winry and knelt down beside her. With slow strokes, Pinako quietly rubbed Winry's back. There was nothing she could say to make it better; nothing she could do. Life was such a cruel thing sometimes...

"He'll come back, right...?" Winry sobbed. "He... promised... He'll be fine..."

Pinako pressed her lips together, but said nothing for a moment. Truthfully, she didn't know if Al would come back. War and conflict had taken many people away from her, and she feared that it wasn't done taking. Would it be cruel to give Winry false hope? Of course, Alphonse and Edward had always come home before. They'd always made it through whatever problems they faced... But this was different...

"I think he will..." Pinako finally said, and hoped, for Winry's sake, that she was right.

* * *

**1** – You'll remember that when Ed was at the Rockbell's house he showered outside.

**2** – I'm using the traditional Catholic wedding vows as a reference here because many civil marriage vows have been adapted from them, and because they're so well known.


	45. On the Job

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-Five**

**On the Job**

**-  
**Ed watched as Kain Fuery shifted the bag on his shoulder, then stepped into the dorm room after Vato Falman unlocked and opened the door. This particular dorm building was for long term living purposes and was sectioned off into bedrooms big enough for one person. Every eight rooms shared a common space including kitchen and bathroom. The sections and rooms weren't big, and there wasn't much in the way of privacy, but they didn't have to pay rent, so in Ed's mind that was equivalent.

Walking in after everyone else, Ed took a quick glance around the room. There was a bed, nightstand, and a small writing desk with a chair. There was also a small closet and window. The short term dorms—the ones he'd usually stayed in during the years him and Al had traveled together—were smaller and had a bunk bed for two people. Basically it was a place to sleep and not much more.

"Welcome home," Falman said, then held the key out to Fuery. "I've been keeping it dusted while you were gone."

Fuery looked at the key for a moment, then took it with a small, "Thanks."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Havoc cleared his throat and said, "Where do you want us to put this stuff?"

They'd all come to bring Fuery home from the hospital, partially because they'd wanted to be there for him, and partially because Fuery had amassed so many cards, flowers, plants, and posters, that it had taken all of them to carry it.

"Oh... uh..." Fuery looked around the small living space, looking a little lost and forlorn. "Anywhere, I guess. I'll go through it all later."

Ed set the box he'd been carrying down by the window, then looked at Fuery. The man had a pathetically despondent look on his face, and Ed couldn't help but think he looked a little misplaced, as if he were unsure what to do next.

"Is there anything we can help you with, or...?" Ed trailed off. He wanted to help, but he wasn't really sure what to do or say.

"No, I'll be fine," Fuery said, sounding a little uncomfortable. He gave them a smile, but Ed thought it seemed forced. "I really appreciate you all coming."

"I'm in the room next to yours," Falman said, and made a gesture toward the left. "If you need anything, I'll be in there." Again Fuery nodded with that slightly confused look on his face. Ed wracked his brain trying to come up with something that he could do to help, but nothing was coming.

"I've never been in this building before," Hawkeye said suddenly to Falman. "I'd love a tour." He blinked, seeming surprised by the request, then he nodded in understanding. She turned to Fuery and smiled. "I think we should go as a group, what do you think?"

The confused look was suddenly replaced with relief and gratitude. "Sure," he said nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal to him. They all filed out of Fuery's room and Ed shook his head, amazed that Hawkeye had not only picked up on what had been bothering Fuery, but had been able to propose a solution in a way that wouldn't embarrass him.

It didn't take long for them to tour the place and as everyone was saying their goodbyes, Ed said, "Enjoy the rest of your Sunday and we'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Fuery said, and gave him a salute. Ed blinked in surprise at the unexpected formality, but returned the salute nonetheless.

With a laugh, Breda said, "Don't salute him when it's not necessary. It'll just feed his already overinflated ego."

"Really?" Fuery asked hesitantly, as if worried he'd done something wrong.

"Oh, shut up," Ed snapped, when Breda and Havoc both started to chuckle. He looked at Fuery, then said, "You didn't do anything wrong. Those two are just assholes."

"Only to you, chief," Havoc said with a grin.

Ed opened his mouth to retort, but stopped when Hawkeye lifted a hand. "I'm leaving." She glanced at Fuery with a smile. "I'm glad you're back with us." He returned her smile and nodded gratefully.

As she started toward the door, Havoc said, "I can walk you home, if you'd like."

"I'll be fine on my own, thanks for the offer," she said lightly.

"Yeah, but it could be dangerous and..." He trailed off when she turned and looked at him, eyebrow raised. "But... I guess you'll be fine on your own." Hawkeye gave him an amused smile and nodded. Ed watched several emotions play over Havoc's face as he shifted, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Okay... well... have a nice rest of your weekend..."

"I'm sure I will," Hawkeye said, and Ed thought he could hear laughter in her tone. Then she turned and headed out the door.

Ed frowned. Was it just him, or was there something going on between Havoc and Hawkeye? He didn't think there was, but he had kind of noticed something at his birthday lunch and now... Ed looked at Breda, then at Falman, then to Fuery before turning his attention to Havoc.

"So, you—" Ed began, but Havoc cut him off.

"Sorry, chief, gotta run." He gave his good wishes to Fuery, then hurried out the door. Fuery and Falman said their goodbyes to Ed and Breda, then wandered back to their rooms, leaving the two of them standing there alone. There was a long, awkward silence, then Ed stuck his thumb out the way Hawkeye and Havoc had gone.

"Are they... You know..." Ed started, then trailed off as Breda began shaking his head.

"Not a chance," Breda said. "Havoc isn't smooth enough to get someone like her; besides, Hawkeye isn't into smokers, so he's outta luck."

"Are you sure, 'cause they kinda—"

"You can never be _sure_, but if they were, would you really want to know?" Breda asked seriously.

Ed smirked. "Well... maybe."

Breda laughed and shook his head. "You have a dirty mind." Then he turned serious again. "Think about it. Those two are your friends, but they're also under your command. If you knew about their fraternization, what would you do?"

Ed frowned. "What do you mean?"

As Breda started to talk, the door opened and two soldiers came into the common room, laughing and joking. They eyed Ed and Breda, most likely wondering who they were—neither Ed nor Breda were in uniform—and why they were there.

"How's it goin'?" one of the soldiers said in a friendly tone.

"Good," Breda answered back. "We were here bringing Sergeant Fuery back from the hospital. We're just on our way out."

"Kain's back?" the other one asked in surprise. "He remembered anything yet?"

Breda paused for a moment before saying, "Not really. His memory for recent events is a little shoddy too, so you'll have to be patient with him." He looked at Ed and nodded toward the door.

After they were out of the dorm, Ed said, "What did you mean by what you said before?"

"What?" Breda asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, then he remembered and the tension was gone from his face. "Oh, right. Well, think about it. Havoc and Hawkeye are your friends, but they're also your subordinates. It's your job, no... your _responsibility_ to step in if you know somethin's going on with them, but what will you do? Hawkeye has rank over Havoc, not much, but it's there."

At that, Ed couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. "You're saying I should be worried about Hawkeye abusing her power to get into Havoc's pants?"

Breda laughed and shook his head. "No, but it's the idea of it. We should go somewhere. You hungry?" he added.

"Not really," Ed answered truthfully.

"Okay, let's just walk instead. I don't really want to be standing around here talkin' about this."

As they started away from the dorm, Ed said, "Okay, so go on."

"There are also other concerns. Both of them are trustworthy subordinates, but if they're in a relationship, technically you're not supposed to have them working together. So what do you do? If you acknowledge the issue, that means you might lose one of them."

"But if I ignore it..." Ed mused.

"If you ignore it, just be sure you can lie real good if you're ever questioned about it by your superiors," Breda said seriously. "But I don't really think I'd want to know if something was going on between them. As a soldier, I'm supposed to be loyal to the military, and reporting anything... untoward... is part of being a loyal soldier."

There was a moment of awkward silence and Ed looked down at the sidewalk. He kicked a rock and watched it clatter noisily down the pavement until it reached the grass, then disappeared. They were talking about Havoc and Hawkeye, but Ed had a feeling Breda meant more than what he was actually saying.

"Good thing we'll never have to worry about that, eh?" Breda said, suddenly jovial and amused. "Can you see those two together? Havoc is a great guy and a good soldier, but like I've said before, he needs to tone it down with the ladies 'cause he comes on too strong. Hawkeye's tough. She's classy, and a wonderful woman, but she's one tough broad. I don't really think Havoc has what it takes to win her over."

Ed nodded silently as he thought about what Breda had said. If knowing about a relationship between Hawkeye and Havoc would put a burden on Breda, how much more of a burden was knowing about his and Roy's relationship? And not just Breda, but the rest of Roy's crew as well. The thought made him feel so selfish.

When he and Roy had first started living together and sleeping together, it had all seemed so simple. It was as if he had been living with Roy in their own little bubble. He hadn't realized that such a thing would affect anyone else. All he'd thought about was himself and how everything was affecting _him_. It had been that same selfishness that had caused the problems with Al. He'd wanted Al all to himself, hadn't wanted to share, and he'd been selfish and jealous when his brother wanted to experience life on his own terms.

Ed stopped and looked up at the sky. The day was perfect, one with bright blue skies and fluffy white clouds. It showed nothing of the turmoil Ed felt inside. Ed had always thought he was so mature, but life was doing a good job of showing him that he still had a long way to go.

Bringing his gaze down from the sky and to Breda—who had stopped as well and was now watching him silently—Ed shook his head. He may have been in his own little bubble, he may not have known better, but Roy should have. Roy would know that his actions would have an impact on his subordinates, on himself, on _them_ as a couple. So, the question was, why had he done it? Why, considering all the risks, had he allowed himself to get involved with Ed?

"If Havoc and Hawkeye ever _did_ get together," Ed started slowly. "What would you do?"

Breda stared back at him with a somber expression, then walked over to Ed and said in a quiet tone, "I'm more loyal to my friends and to Roy Mustang, than I am to the military and the fuhrer. You understand?"

"Yeah..." Ed said, suddenly with a lump in his throat.

"Good. Always remember, don't ever doubt it, and tell no one." When Ed nodded, Breda stepped away and patted his stomach. "I'm starving. Think I'll go grab some chow. Ya sure you don't want to come?"

Ed nodded again. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Alright, see you tomorrow then," Breda said, raising a hand in farewell and turning to go.

"Lieutenant Breda," Ed said. Breda turned, and Ed took a deep breath. He wanted to apologize for all the trouble he'd caused, for being an immature asshole at times, but at the last moment he settled on, "Thanks..." Breda's lips quirked up into a smile and he gave a small nod before turning and walking away.

* * *

Pinako leaned against the doorframe and quietly watched Winry work. After Alphonse and Russell had left, Winry had gone off by herself for a while, but by noon she had returned to the house, changed out of her wedding dress, and had announced that if Alphonse thought she was going to mope around while waiting for his return, then he was wrong. She'd immediately started to work and that had been the end of Winry's tears; or, at least, the tears Pinako saw.

She had a feeling that there were tears when she wasn't looking, maybe at night when Winry was all alone, but whenever Pinako tried to talk about it, Winry would stoically claim that she was fine, and that Alphonse had better come back soon if he knew what was good for him. So, Pinako let it be. After all, Alphonse had only been gone a few days. She would give it time and if Winry wanted to talk, she would be there for her.

In the past few days, Winry had been working a lot. She'd thrown herself into her work, working late into the night and starting far earlier than usual. Last night Winry hadn't slept at all. If she kept this pace up for too long, Pinako was worried that Winry's health would suffer, but she was also afraid that if she intervened, Winry would be without something to vent her emotions on and might break down. Pinako hoped that this would only be temporary, but she could understand the need to do _something_ to not think about being alone, and about having your loved ones in danger.

Puffing on her pipe, Pinako said, "It's almost lunch time. What do you want?" Winry tightened a screw, then set the screwdriver down and turned to look at Pinako. "And you better not say you're not hungry. I know you didn't eat breakfast."

Winry gave her a sheepish look. Pinako might be willing to let the extra work slip by for a while, but she refused to let Winry skip more than one meal a day. It wasn't healthy, and with the extra work Winry needed to eat.

"I guess th—" Winry began, but was cut off when they heard the front door crash open. Pinako turned and started hurrying to the living room. She could hear Winry right behind her and the girl bumped into her when Pinako stopped dead when she saw who was in her house.

"Get out!" Pinako snapped angrily.

"We're here on official business," Archer said calmly. "Please have a seat."

"You will not tell me what to do in my own home!" Pinako shot back.

"Yes, I will," Archer said blandly. "And you will obey. Unless you'd like to spend some time in a cell?" He glanced behind her. "And your... sweet... granddaughter as well?" Pinako clenched her teeth together as she glared at him, then glanced at the man beside him—Kimblee—then at the four soldiers standing next to the door.

"Very well..." she growled. Looking back at Winry, Pinako gave a small shake of the head when Winry looked down at her. This could turn ugly very fast, and she didn't want that. She was an old woman, and she'd lived her life, but Winry still had years ahead of her... good years that would come after this pathetic war had ended.

When they were seated, Archer settled himself into another chair, crossed his legs, and folded his arms over his chest. "I hear that congratulations are in order," Archer said, looking at Winry. "You're now an Elric, isn't that right?" Instead of answering, Winry glared hatefully at him. "Where is your husband right now, Mrs. Elric?" He waited, but when Winry again refused to speak, Archer added, "Because, I _know_ he's not here. All of Rizembool knows he's not here."

At that, Winry's eye's widened slightly in shock, but Pinako didn't feel any surprise at all. Most likely, the mayor had told his wife what had happened. And, in turn, she had told her friends, who had told their friends, who had told their friends. Rizembool was large in size, but comparatively small in population, and unless you were really good at guarding your own business, it became everyone else's business.

Archer gave a flat smile. "We recently found the bodies of some soldiers—very _dead_ soldiers. I can imagine whoever killed them would have wanted to get away before they were found out." Winry was trembling slightly now, though with anger or fear, Pinako didn't know. Archer leaned forward in the chair and fixed his gaze on Winry's. "You wouldn't happen to know _why_ Alphonse left in such a hurry... would you?" Winry opened her mouth to speak, but Pinako overrode her in an attempt to stop Winry from saying anything foolish.

"Perhaps you should keep better track of your men," Pinako said evenly. "There are many people in Rizembool who are not happy with the military here."

"And Alphonse Elric was one of those?" Archer asked.

"Do I look like a mind reader? If you want to know, ask him," Pinako said. Winry opened her mouth again, and Pinako said, "Winry, keep quiet."

"Oh, no, by all means, please do speak your mind," Archer said with a smile, and Pinako glared at him.

"You're just looking for someone to blame," Winry finally said forcefully. Pinako could almost physically feel the rage and pain coming from her granddaughter.

"Now, why would I want to do that when I have a perfectly good suspect already?" Archer drawled easily.

"You've had it out for Al since you came here! For all I know, you set this whole thing up just to get him!" Winry's eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Pinako shook her head. Winry was too distraught and emotional for this right now and the more she spoke, the more likely she'd end up as putty in Archer's hands. She worried for Al's safety too, but this was no time to get emotional.

"Winry," Pinako said, putting a hand on the girl's leg in an effort to silence her without causing a reaction from Archer.

But Winry ignored her and continued, "How do we know you didn't murder those solders yourself just to blame it on Al!"

"Soldiers are valuable resources," Archer explained. "I don't have so many as to want to kill them needlessly."

"What are the lives of five regular soldiers in comparison with a skilled alchemist?" Winry asked bitterly, and one tear finally escaped her eye and trickled slowly down her cheek. "People like you don't value life. You use it up carelessly to get what you want."

A wide grin spread on Archer's face and he sat back in his chair looking pleased. There was also a knowing smirk on Kimblee's face, but he kept quiet. "I... don't recall saying that there were_ five_ soldiers," Archer said smoothly. "But you're absolutely right. There _were_ five. How did you know that, Mrs. Elric?" The color drained from Winry's face, and Pinako felt her heart sink in fear. When neither of them spoke, Archer snapped his fingers and motioned for one of the soldiers. The soldier stepped forward and saluted sharply. "Put a warrant out for the arrest of Alphonse Elric."

"No!" Winry cried desperately. Pinako could see the devastation in her face, and her own heart was sinking with fear for Alphonse, but there was nothing she could do. She wanted to; wanted to stop what was happening, both for Winry's sake and for Al's, but there was nothing. "He didn't do it!" Winry's body was beginning to tremble and she balled her hands into fists.

"Didn't he?" Archer asked, standing up and looking down at her. A triumphant smirk spread across his face. "Prove it."

Winry stood as well and they were suddenly nose to nose. "Prove that he did!" she snapped back.

"After having a quick and unplanned wedding, he immediately leaves the area when he _knows_ residents are supposed to remain in their respective towns unless they have clearance from the military. Leaving in and of itself is a violation of martial law. Even if he _isn't_ guilty of murder, which I have no doubt in my mind that he is, he is guilty of treason."

"That's ridiculous," Pinako said incredulously.

Archer just stared at her for a moment with a controlled expression, then glanced at the solider. "Alphonse Elric is wanted for the murder of military personnel and treason. He is a highly dangerous alchemist and should be approached with great caution. Use whatever force is necessary to stop him." The soldier wrote quickly on a notepad, then saluted sharply.

"You can't!" Winry shouted with quivering voice. Her face was still pale, but her nose and eyes were red now, and her cheeks were wet from her tears.

Stepping forward, Archer whispered, "If I can't have him, _no one _will have him. Do you understand? I will not allow The People's Government to acquire such a powerful tool—a tool that should be _mine_."

Without warning, Winry punched him hard in the face. "You bastard!" she screamed in rage. She lashed out again and again in fury as Archer worked to defend himself.

"Winry, stop!" Pinako shouted in horror. The situation was already bad and Winry was only making it worse. Archer grabbed her wrists and pulled back hard on them, making Winry scream in pain, then dragged her to the floor. She thrashed about, trying to kick him now, and he was shouting for the soldiers, who ran over and separated them.

"You could have helped me!" Archer snarled breathlessly to Kimblee, who was chuckling in amusement.

"I could have," Kimblee said calmly.

Making a sound of disgust, Archer put his hand to his face where his cheek was already starting to swell. "I should arrest you," Archer said menacingly to Winry. "Maybe word of your mistreatment would bring your husband running back."

"If you arrest me, I'll kill myself. Then Al will have no reason to come back," Winry returned forcefully.

"You're bluffing," he said, still breathing heavily.

"Am I?" she asked, her voice filled with pain and anger. "Do you really want to take the chance?"

Archer breathed deeply through his nose, making his nostrils flare, as he considered her words, then without a word turned quickly and marched out of the house. The soldiers followed, but Kimblee stayed behind for a moment, staring at Winry. He smirked, tipped his hat to them, then turned and walked out of the house, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Ed held the phone to his ear as he listened to the civilian supply company clerk. The man was angry about something that had supposedly been promised him two weeks ago, but it didn't sound like something Mustang would have approved and Ed couldn't find any documentation about it at all. Apparently the supply sergeant at the warehouse had gotten tired of the guy and sent him Ed's way when he wouldn't back down.

Flopping a folder onto his already messy desk, Ed opened another one and flipped through it. This was a ridiculous waste of time, and he was already behind as it was. The door opening caught his attention and he saw Lieutenant Hawkeye walk through and smile at him. He tried to smile back, though he had a feeling it was more of a harassed 'help me' look than anything else. She gave him an 'it's all part of the job' look of pity, then held up a folder with a sticky note on it that said, 'You have a meeting with General Hakuro in five minutes.'

Ed just stared at it, not comprehending for a moment, then he said into the phone, "Look, talk to Mustang about it when he comes back." When the man protested again, Ed snapped, "If you didn't get it in writing, then it didn't happen." And with that, he slammed the receiver down and bounded out of his chair.

"What do you mean I have a meeting in five minutes?!" he exclaimed. "For _what_?!"

"Just like you have weekly staff meetings with us, Hakuro has weekly meetings with the high ranking officers under his direct command. That includes you."

Ed tightened his ponytail and brushed down his uniform with his hands. "Why didn't you tell me _before_?" he complained.

"I did."

"You did?" He wracked his brain trying to remember when this could have been.

"Yes. I did."

"When?" he asked suspiciously.

"Right after our meeting," she said respectfully.

"But I didn't go to a meeting last week," Ed pointed out.

"The general canceled the meeting for last week," Hawkeye returned, then smiled and handed him the folder. "You might need this." Ed snatched it and rushed out of the office. He heard her call out to him what conference room it was in and he waved a hand in the air to show that he'd heard.

As he ran down the hall, people pressed themselves against the walls to avoid being run over. He pushed the button on the elevator, then dismissed it and used the stairs instead. When he got to the designated room, Ed opened the door, and saw a large, rectangular table filled with colonels and lieutenant colonels. Most were men; there was one woman. General Hakuro sat at the head of the table. As he entered, they all turned to look at him.

"Uh..." Ed said, breathing hard. "Sorry I'm late..."

"Elric, I don't make allowances for tardiness," Hakuro said coldly. "Please remain after this meeting has adjourned."

'Fuck you' was at the forefront of Ed's mind, but instead he nodded and found an empty chair near the back. He felt like a schoolboy being reprimanded by his teacher while the rest of the class laughed at him. It was a horrible feeling, but he was determined not to react.

"For those of you who haven't heard, Edward Elric here has just been promoted to lieutenant colonel," Hakuro said flatly. Ed pressed his lips together, trying not to glare. "Congratulations, Colonel Elric. We all know how much you deserved your promotion."

_Die. Just die..._ Ed thought angrily. The other officers in the room were giving him looks that bordered on hostility. If there had been any of these people who hadn't hated him before, Ed doubted that was the case now.

As the meeting began, Hakuro had each of them give a report on their sections. Most of these reports took only minutes, but Ed started to feel panicked. He hadn't prepared anything! Embarrassingly enough, Ed hadn't a clue what was going on in his section. In desperation, he opened the folder Hawkeye had given him and on the top page was a neat and concise report for him with another sticky note that said, 'Next week be sure to prepare your own report.'

Ed was going to bring that woman some flowers, or chocolates, or some gun cleaning stuff, or _something_! He'd only been doing Mustang's job for a short time, but he wasn't sure how he'd be able to survive without her. He quickly memorized the material and gave his report with no problems.

There were some superficial items of business, then Hakuro had them turn their attention to a large map on the wall where he began to inform them of the dealings in the east. Apparently there had recently been several small battles with factions of the People's Army, many of which were won by the rebellion.

Having not kept up with the details of the war recently, Ed found this particularly interesting. He was also intrigued with the way the rebellion continued to grow in numbers. Surely they couldn't think they could _really_ win this. The People's Army might win some battles; but, in the end, the military would stop messing around and send a sizable force to deal with them. At least, that's what Ed would have done. He tapped a finger against his lips as he studied the map. Surely the military could have already dealt with this threat... why hadn't they? It didn't make sense...

"Isn't that right, Colonel Elric?"

Ed blinked and looked at Hakuro. "Huh?"

"Paying attention is also a requirement for these meetings," Hakuro said.

"I was paying attention," Ed explained. "I was just wondering about something."

Hakuro folded his arms and gave him a condescending look. "What?"

"Why hasn't the military just sent out a large number of troops to deal with the People's Army? Wouldn't it make more sense than just engaging them in small skirmishes?" Some of the officers looked at each other, and there were a few whispers.

"Colonel Elric will be starting tactical classes tonight," Hakuro announced. "I'm not sure it will do him much good since he is still having trouble grasping the concept of obeying orders without question."

Ed felt his face heat with anger and embarrassment. Hakuro wasn't really taking him seriously. He just wanted to humiliate him in front of everyone. Roy wouldn't let this get the better of him, and Ed decided that he'd try to follow that example.

"I didn't know this was about obeying orders," Ed said as respectfully as he could manage.

"It's always about obeying orders," Hakuro said. "The fuhrer commands the military. He gives the orders. We don't _question_ those orders, we just do them. Understand?"

_Not really... sounds like a load of shit to me_, Ed thought, but instead said, "Yes, sir."

Hakuro seemed pleased by the humility in his voice and nodded in satisfaction. Then he said, "If there are no other questions—_intelligent_ questions—this meeting is over." The other officers stood and began filing out of the conference room. Some were speaking to each other in low tones, and there were more than a few who glanced Ed's way as they passed him.

"Fullmetal," Hakuro said, catching Ed's attention. Ed forced himself out of his chair and wandered over to where the general was sitting. "You were late to my meeting by two minutes."

_Not by my watch,_ Ed thought, but instead said, "Sorry."

Hakuro's eyebrows rose. "Sorry? Don't you think you're being a little too informal with me, Colonel?"

Ed moved his gaze away for a moment, trying to hide the fact that he felt this conversation was ridiculously idiotic. Looking back at Hakuro, Ed said, "I apologize for not being on time. It won't happen again." _Probably_, he added mentally.

"It had better not. Professionalism is important in the military."

"Professionalism, as in making jokes at your junior officer's expense?" Ed asked without thinking.

"You _are_ a joke!" Hakuro snapped angrily. "I have no idea why the fuhrer advanced you. You weren't even in the regular military before that! The very idea of _you_ leading men into battle is absolutely ludicrous!"

Ed wanted to reply with something snarky, tell Hakuro to go to hell and that he was _not_ a little boy, but he didn't. It was an effort, but Ed closed his eyes and thought of Roy. Roy wouldn't let himself be drawn into an argument like this with his commanding officer, would he? No. He'd back down and scheme behind the bastard's back. The only thing was that Ed _wasn't _Roy. He didn't _scheme_. He faced everything head on. So, he wouldn't scheme, but he would back down for now. Nothing would be gained by getting into a shouting match with Hakuro.

"Is that all, sir?" Ed asked, his voice respectful, but strained as well.

"It is. Get out of my face," Hakuro said with disgust.

Pressing his lips together to avoid another outburst, Ed gave a bow, then turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

* * *

**A/N dealing with this chapter:** This particular chapter was originally supposed to have more in it, but I decided to cut it in half because I realized if I didn't stop here then it would be too long.

**General A/N: **It has been quite a while since I posted anything on this story. I apologize for that. It hasn't been because I was out of ideas or didn't know where the plot was going, for those of you who were wondering. Mostly it is because I had a lot going on and because this story is so complex, it was difficult to continue working on it because I was afraid that I would screw something up. That's the problem with writing a story and posting it chapter by chapter. You have to be sure you have it right the first time.

But anyway, I haven't forgotten this story. I love it very much and intend to finish it whether anyone continues to be interested in it or not. For those of you who have given me gentle (and not so gentle) nudges over the past year or so, I think you and appreciate your interest. I will try not to let so much time pass between updates again. :)


	46. Tactical Training

**-**

**Descent **

**Chapter Forty-Six**

**Tactical Training**

**-  
**Vato Falman stepped outside and looked up at the sky. It was bright blue with the occasional white, fluffy cloud. It was hot—it was the middle of summer so it was supposed to be hot—but under the shade of a tree or building it wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was pleasant enough that he almost wished he could go home, dress down, and sit outside with an ice cold beer. He wondered idly if Breda was planning on having another cookout anytime soon. Those were always enjoyable and—

"Hot day, isn't it?"

Vato turned and saw that it was Colonel Henry Douglass who had spoken to him. The sun glinted off the man's glasses and Vato squinted a little before moving slightly to escape that extra light.

"Yes, sir," Vato said respectfully. He didn't care much for Douglass, but there was no point in needlessly getting on the man's bad side.

Douglass stepped beside Vato and said, "You're working under Elric now, isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir," Vato repeated, though the idea that he was just working under Ed was a little simplistic. He worked under Ed, but he had help from Lieutenants Hawkeye, Havoc, and Breda, so it wasn't as if it was that bad.

"How do you like working under a little boy?" Douglass asked, and it seemed to Vato that Douglass was cautiously probing him, but for what? It was no secret that Douglass hated Ed, and that he was trying to pin Colonel Mustang's disappearance on him, but what did that have to do with him?

"It is... unusual," Vato replied carefully.

"Unusual?" Douglass repeated. "That's being very vague, don't you think?"

Vato pressed his lips together in thought, then looked past Douglass when he saw Havoc leave the building. Havoc held up a cigarette and pointed out past the building to indicate that he was taking a break, then Vato looked back at Douglass. How he responded could be very important. How did he want to play this?

"Lieutenant Colonel Elric is my superior officer, so I would prefer not to be drawn into a derogatory discussion about him," Vato said slowly. "However, let's just say that there are other men I would rather serve under."

He gave Douglass a look that he meant to look meaningful, as if he'd rather serve under Douglass himself. His statement had been true, he'd much rather work under Colonel Mustang than anyone else, and if Maes Hughes were still alive, he'd go back to working under him in a heartbeat.

Vato liked Ed as a person, though he could be exasperating at times. Ed had a good heart and tried to do what he thought was right, which was more than Vato could say about a lot of people. Ed as a commanding officer, however, was a little different. When it came right down to it, Ed didn't make a very good boss. But Vato was willing to cut him some slack. Ed was eighteen and he was still new at this. Most people started at the bottom—whether socially or career-wise—and worked their way up. Ed hadn't really had that luxury, from what Vato had seen. He believed that given time and training, Ed could not only be a good boss, but a good officer in the field.

But, what was most important to him was that Ed was loyal to Mustang, and so was Vato. Granted, Ed and the colonel had a very... different... relationship which spurred that on, a relationship that Vato wasn't sure he could ever approve of. But if it didn't affect their work, then he didn't care what they did in their personal lives.

Douglass stared at him in thought, then glanced away from the building as if something had caught his eye. Vato followed his gaze and saw Ed stalking across the grass toward where Jean was taking his break. Even from this distance, there was no mistaking the pissed look on Ed's face. As if he could feel himself being watched, Ed glanced in their direction. He slowed slightly, then looked away and resumed his pace.

"Come by my office sometime, Falman. Perhaps we can find a way to remedy this... problem."

Vato glanced at Douglass, who was still staring at Ed. The expression on the man's face wasn't a pleasant one, and Vato wondered how much of a threat Douglass was to Ed. Had he had anything to do with Colonel Mustang's shooting and his disappearance? If he had, then the same thing could easily happen to Ed. That was something Vato wasn't about to let happen.

* * *

"Mornin', chief," Jean said lazily around the cigarette hanging from his lips as Ed drew near. The kid looked pissed and Jean was sure he'd be hearing all about it in the next few minutes.

Ed plopped down next to him in the shade of the tree and pulled out his own cigarettes. "Hakuro is a fucking _asshole_!" Ed snapped as he patted his pants pockets, looking for his lighter. Having his own lighter still in hand, Jean lifted it and thumbed the flint wheel to create a flame. Ed lit his cigarette, took a drag, and gave a muttered 'thanks' after exhaling.

"So, Hakuro is an asshole," Jean said sardonically. "And here I'd thought you'd already figured that obvious fact out."

"Oh, fuck you, Havoc," Ed growled.

"This must mean your meeting went well," Jean said.

Ed snorted. "I was a couple minutes late to his lame meeting and he uses that to make fun of me the whole time. He treats me like I'm some stupid kid! I ask one question and he turns it on me to make me seem incompetent! I'll show him, that bastard!"

Jean took a long drag on his cigarette as he listened to Ed rage. He could understand the frustration of having to serve under someone he hated, having had a few commanding officers he would have shot dead himself on the battlefield if he could have gotten away with it. Even Roy Mustang had his moments where Jean wanted to throttle him.

When Ed finally fell silent, Jean said, "Look at it this way, I hear General Astin(1) got sent out to the east. Hakuro's been trying to get his desk job for _years_. If you're lucky, he'll get it and he'll be out of your hair."

"Doesn't really help me right now," Ed grumbled.

Jean almost said something sarcastic about the horrors of having to wait for something, but he let it pass. Ed was already in a bad mood, and Jean didn't need his foul attitude directed toward him.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Jean said suddenly as he remembered. "Old man Jacobs left a memo on your desk while you were gone."

Ed flicked the cigarette away and pulled another one out. "Who?" he asked as he plucked Jean's lighter from his hand without asking and used it to light the cigarette.

"Clenton Jacobs. He's a retired general. He taught a lot of the higher level tactical classes before he retired. I hear he volunteered to come back and teach the class you'll be in." Jean plucked his lighter from Ed's hand. "Supposedly, it's because the military is a little short handed here."

"But you don't think so?" Ed asked.

Jean shrugged as if to say he had no idea why Jacobs would do that, though truthfully he thought it had something to do with Ed. And why not? He could see how teaching Ed might appeal to some people—people who had never actually had to deal with Ed before, that was.

Ed grunted and stared off toward the building. Jean turned his lighter over and over in his hand as he listened to the almost imperceptible sound of Ed's cigarette crackling each time the kid took a drag, then the sound of Ed exhaling.

He was contemplating whether he wanted another cigarette, or if he should go back to work when Ed suddenly asked, "What do you think they were talking about?" His tone sounded mildly curious, as if the answer really didn't interest him all that much, but that he was trying to make conversation.

"Who?"

"That fuckwad Douglass and Falman. You didn't see them?"

"Oh yeah, I saw them," Jean said. "I just didn't think anything about it." Maybe he would have one more, Jean decided. "He was probably still trying to get something on you. I think he knows he's got nothing, but he hates your guts and would still like to pin something on you, even if it isn't Mustang's disappearance."

To that, Ed said nothing and they spent the next couple of minutes in silence until Ed finally flipped the filter of his cigarette away and stood up. Jean expected Ed to leave, but he didn't. Instead he lingered for a moment, and it felt as though there was something he wanted to say. But, after a minute, he lifted a hand and gave a half-hearted, "See ya later," before starting back toward the main building.

* * *

Ed pressed the button on the elevator and waited. There was a part of him that had wanted to ask Havoc if he thought Ed was a joke; if it was somehow ludicrous to think of him in the position that he was. But he was afraid of the answer. There was a very good chance that Havoc might have only affirmed Hakuro's position.

Now that he was cooled off, Ed supposed he could see some of Hakuro's points, but that was no reason to treat him so badly. He was trying his hardest. Didn't that count for anything? So he hadn't had some of the same training as the other men and women of his rank, but he was a fast learner. He _could_ learn what he needed to know.

And then there was that situation with Douglass. Couldn't the man just leave him alone? Why were so many people hell bent against him? Why were they all trying to take him down? Couldn't they just give him a chance? They were in the middle of a war. Wouldn't it make sense for them all to pull together instead of all this petty squabbling?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Ed stepped inside and, absorbed in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice that he wasn't alone until after the doors closed.

"You seem deep in thought," a smooth, female voice said. He started a little and turned his head to see a woman dressed in a grayish-lilac, civilian suit. Instead of pants, she sported a knee length skirt, and the shirt under her jacket was green. Her hair was a chestnut color and her face held an expression of cool, detached calm. Her nametag proclaimed her to be Colonel Juliette Douglass, and Ed knew her at once to be the fuhrer's secretary, but that wasn't what had given him pause.

"A... a little..." he said quietly as he stared into her face. He had seen her a few times before, and he'd always felt slightly disquieted at how much she looked like his mother. But this was the first time that he'd been able to stand so close to her and really examine her features. If he could put her in one of his mother's outfits, Ed had no doubt this woman would be able to easily pass for his mother. The thought brought a pang of loss and regret so strong that he was tempted to look away, but there was also fascination and longing and he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes from her.

"You must be very busy with all your new responsibilities," she said, and it seemed like her voice softened a little. Maybe he was just imagining it, but...

"Yeah... I am... Colonel Douglass," he said. The urge to step close to her and put his arms around her was strong, but this wasn't his mother. No matter how much she looked like her, she wasn't. And then she smiled softly at him and he was almost undone.

"Mrs. Douglass will be fine," she said in an even softer tone. It was the tone one used with someone they cared about. It was the same way his mother...

Unable to take the emotional storm raging within him, Ed tore his eyes away and stared at the elevator buttons. It was only then that he realized he hadn't pushed any of them. Pushing his floor, Ed said, "Yes ma'am." He felt her hand on his shoulder and it seemed that her touch was burning through his clothing and into his skin. The feeling was hot, and yet the burning was that of something icy and cold.

"Hang in there," she said with that same caring tone. There was a pause before she added, "Edward."

The elevator stopped on his floor and the doors opened, but for a moment he felt frozen where he stood. His breathing had grown heavier as his emotions roiled within him. This wasn't his mother. This wasn't his mother. This wasn't his mother...

"I... yes... thank you..." Ed finally managed. He looked up at her, and hesitantly backed out of the elevator and away from her touch. When he was just outside the elevator doors, Ed stopped and stared at her in transfixed silence. It was only when the doors finally closed and the elevator continued on that he was able to shake off the strange mood had come over him. Turning he gave a deep sigh and walked away from the elevator.

* * *

Sloth stared fixedly at the elevator doors as it continued to the top floor. That Elric boy... Him and his brother. They tormented her in her dreams and in her quiet, waking hours. Memories of another woman's children. Memories that belonged to someone that wasn't her. She wasn't that woman—that Trisha Elric. She was Sloth. She was a created being that was unlike the humans around her.

Edward Elric...

She had her own tortured memories of him; of a younger boy with wide, terrified eyes as he looked back at her through the gloom and mist. He had created her. He should have taken care of her, should have completed her. Instead he had left her to die and it was only through the grace of another that she lived and that she had taken a more completed form.

She hated him.

And loved him...

Sloth pressed a hand to her head, trying to quiet those ghostly memories of love and devotion. She was _not_ that boy's mother. She would kill him and his younger brother. Then maybe these memories would go away. Maybe then they would fade and leave her in peace. That's all she asked for.

The doors opened and she headed toward the fuhrer's office, outwardly calm, inwardly at war with herself. Sloth opened the doors to the outer chamber of the fuhrer's office and saw a short man with black hair and glasses waiting for her on one of the chairs.

"Master Sergeant Kain Fuery," she said in a businesslike tone. "I'm glad to see you've come as you were instructed." This one would be useful to her—to them. He would make a good spy for now, and then later... well, they'd be sure to use him to his full potential.

* * *

Winry stared down at the automail leg she'd been working on and let her eyes trace over the metal. It gleamed where the sunlight hit it, and normally she would think of how beautiful it looked and how she loved to see it sparkle and shine, but not today. Right now, the metallic beauty of the piece on the table escaped her notice.

Her thoughts kept falling back to the incident with Archer and Kimblee. Sometimes it just seemed like a haze in her mind, and other times it was so clear that she felt frightened. Granny had tried to reassure her after they'd left, had tried to tell her Archer was looking for any excuse, any misspoken word, anything at all, that would give him a reason to chase after Al.

That seemed reasonable enough, but Winry just didn't know if she could accept that. It was _her_ words that had given Archer that excuse... her stupid, thoughtless words... Every time she thought about it, Winry wanted to press her hands against her eyes and shake her head, as if that would somehow make that mistake go away; or, at the very least, the memories.

But it didn't. The memories remained and her guilt was overwhelming. It took ever bit of self-control she could muster to hold back the tears; from falling to her knees, curling up on the floor, and crying. But even if she did that, the problem wouldn't go away. Archer would still have the knowledge she'd given him, Al would still be gone, and she would still be alone.

Why hadn't Al just taken her along? Now he was a wanted man because of _her_! This was all her fault. Now he was going to get caught and executed and—

"Winry?"

Swallowing hard, Winry looked up and saw granny standing in the doorway with a plate of food in one hand and her pipe in the other.

"Yes?" she managed, her voice tight in her throat.

"I brought you lunch."

Winry could hear the worry on her granny's voice and she felt guilty for that too. The last thing she wanted was to make others worry about her. She wanted to be strong, but it was so hard when the sadness, guilt, anger, and loneliness were eating at her inside. There were so many 'if onlys' flying around in her mind, but she couldn't go back and undo things, she could only go forward. She _would_ go forward because she had to be here when Al came home. Winry couldn't let herself believe that he might not come home, no matter how likely that possibility might be.

"Thank you," she said, forcing herself to act more cheerful. It was the least she could do.

Granny walked in and set the plate down on the table beside the automail leg, then said, "Worrying won't do any good."

"I'm not... I'm not worrying," Winry said, sounding unconvincing even in her own ears.

"Uh huh," her granny grunted, then stuck the pipe in her mouth. "That boy can take care of himself. He's had to do that for years. I'm pretty sure he can handle this."

Winry wanted to protest. She wanted to voice her fears and have granny take them all away like she had when Winry had been a little girl. But she wasn't a little girl now, and nothing her granny said could make the pain and despair leave her.

"You're right," she said. "Al will be fine. I'm worrying over nothing." She forced a smile on her face before popping a vegetable in her mouth. She didn't feel like eating, didn't feel like working... she just wanted to sit on the porch and wait for Al to come back to her, or lie in her bed and cry. But she couldn't do that. She had to keep going. She had to be strong...

* * *

Ed looked at the number on the open door before letting himself into the room. According to the note left on his desk by that Jacobs guy, Ed was supposed to show up a half hour early. He was a little earlier than that, but it wasn't a big deal. He looked around and was a little surprised to see that this room had desks in it like any other classroom he'd seen. Not that he'd seen a lot of classrooms; he hadn't been to school since he lived in Rizembool(2), but he was sure that once you saw one classroom, you'd pretty much seen them all.

Each desk had a stack of three books on top. There was a larger desk at the front of the classroom, and a chalkboard behind that. In the far corner at the front of the room was a large stack of books—at least ten to fifteen of them.

"You're earlier than expected," a voice said behind him.

Ed turned and looked up, but he was surprised to find no one in his direct line of sight. Lowering his gaze until he was looking slightly downward, Ed saw that the man in question was in a wheelchair. He took in the old man's close cropped white hair, glasses, clean shaven face, and short-sleeved button-up shirt quickly. The man had strong-looking arms for someone his age, though Ed was sure that came from having to move the wheelchair. Bringing his gaze a little lower, he took in the man's legs; or, rather, what was left of them. The man's slacks were tied neatly at mid-thigh where the legs cut off.

"That a problem?" Ed asked, moving his gaze to the man's eyes.

"Not at all, son," the man said, and wheeled himself into the room. "I'm Clenton Jacobs. I'll be your teacher for the next while. And you're Edward Elric." It didn't sound like a question, but he nodded anyway. Jacobs looked him up and down, then said, "Well, boy, I'll be straight with you. I don't think you should be here."

"What?!" Ed protested in surprise.

"I think you should be out playing sports or flirting with the girls. You should be letting those older and wiser than yourself worry about the finer points of war."

"Just because I'm young, doesn't mean I'm stupid," Ed snapped back, not bothering to hold his tongue. It had been a long day and all he really wanted was to go home and sleep. The last thing he needed was for yet another person to tell him he didn't belong in the position he held.

Jacobs gave him a lopsided grin. "Son, you'd better talk to me with a little more respect than that, or I promise I'll have you cleaning floors with your toothbrush. I may be retired, but I still have enough authority for that."

"I'm sorry, sir," Ed said grudgingly.

"Sit down, boy," Jacobs said, motioning to one of the desks. When Ed sat, Jacobs continued. "Let me ask you a question. Why do you think the fuhrer promoted you to the position he did?"

"He must think I can get the job done," Ed returned smartly.

"Do you think so?" Jacobs asked quietly. "I hear you barged into the fuhrer's office. Do you think the fuhrer found that annoying at all?"

"Uh..." Ed said. He hadn't actually thought about how Bradley would have felt about that. "I dunno... maybe."

"Tell me, if a fly enters your room and begins to annoy you with its buzzing, what do you do?"

"Get rid of it," Ed said slowly.

Jacobs nodded. "And how do you do that?"

"Let it out through a window..." Ed said.

"Do you really?" Jacobs asked evenly. There was no mockery or malice in that question, only mild curiosity. "You _always_ let the fly out the window?"

"No," Ed said softly.

"No?"

"Sometimes I kill it..." He swallowed, seeing the connection and not liking it at all.

Jacobs nodded as if expecting that answer. "Has your new position earned you a lot of friends?" Ed shook his head. "So tell me, why do you think the fuhrer advanced your rank?"

Ed looked down at the three books that sat on the desk in front of him for a moment, then whispered, "He wants me dead..." He felt a numbing shock spread through his body. Fuhrer Bradley wanted him dead? Was that really why he'd promoted Ed and given him what he wanted?

"That would be a very safe assumption," Jacobs said.

"But why not just kill me right there and then?" Ed asked, still staring at the books.

"Why indeed..." Jacobs murmured, and now Ed looked up at him. The old man was staring intently at him, nodding slowly as if to himself. "I am going to guess that you are terrible at chess," Jacobs said, changing the subject.

Ed blinked. Chess? What did that have to do with anything? "Why?" he asked guardedly.

Jacobs gave him a bland smile. "There are some people who have a natural knack for tactics and politics. You find many people like that in the higher ranks because they're able to see the situation and make it work for their good. They're able to maneuver their own personal moves so that they gain the upper hand. Life is a battlefield, my boy, and those who succeed in the military know this. Granted there are those few who gain their station by other means, but those types of people are only kept around because those with real power know that some day such people could be of use to them."

Lifting a hand, Jacobs pushed his glasses—which had started to slip down his nose—up, then looked at Ed gravely. "Just by talking to you, I can tell that leading large groups of men is not what you were made for. This isn't your 'calling' in life. Your natural strengths lie elsewhere. You're brilliant and quick, but you're best alone or in small groups. You face whatever problem comes your way head on. These are excellent traits, but not for someone in your position."

Ed stared into the old man's faded blue eyes. There had been no accusation in his words. He wasn't mocking Ed or telling him he was worthless. He was simply stating the truth as he saw it, and by doing so Ed was able to acknowledge his words without reacting defensively.

He swallowed hard, then stared defiantly back. "I know... I'm not—" He was going to say, 'I'm not Mustang', but he caught himself. "I'm not a patient person. I know I don't always think things through or plan for everything, but I have to do this. I'm here now and I have to go on. I'm not going to give up just because I don't have a natural ability for it. I can learn. I _will_ learn. I've learned a lot already."

"The men and women who will be in this class with you will have more than ten times the knowledge, experience, and natural ability than you do. I expect you to work hard. I expect you to come a half hour before every class and stay an hour after each class. I will work with you one on one. I have every confidence that you can succeed," Jacobs said.

"Why would you do that?" Ed asked. "I thought you said I shouldn't be here."

"You shouldn't, but you are. I want you to live long enough to make it to the battlefield and I want you to learn, not only how to avoid losing to the enemy, but also how to avoid being murdered by your own men while you're there." Jacobs gave him a small smile, then glanced over to the books in the corner. "I hear you're a genius. Do you think you can have all those books read in a week?"

"You bet your ass," Ed said confidently, then cringed a little at his language. There were few men that he'd met in the military who he felt deserved respect, and he thought that this man was definitely one of those. "I mean, yes, sir, I can."

* * *

**1.** Not an FMA character.

**2.** This is something I pulled from the manga.


	47. Lost and Found

**-**

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

**Lost and Found**

**-  
**Al laid in his bedroll and stared up at the morning sky, watching as the deep black of night turned into a dark blue, then increasingly lighter. It had been almost a week since he'd left Rizembool with Russell, and they'd kept off the main roads, which meant they had a lot of wild area to go through. The going hadn't been particularly rough, and had it been under other circumstances, Al might even have enjoyed himself. But the knowledge that a passing soldier or troop could possibly lead to his arrest and imprisonment kept him from enjoying the landscape to it's fullest.

That, and being away from Winry.

It was only now that Al was realizing how much he'd taken for granted; how he'd taken _her_ for granted. He missed looking at her and talking with her. He missed her cooking and even the way she scolded him for being too overprotective. He missed it all. The time he'd had with her was so precious, and he'd taken it all for granted. Now all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and be with her.

A bird began to sing somewhere in the trees, welcoming in the morning, but with the heaviness of his thoughts, it was difficult for Al to enjoy the twittering song.

Apparently there was a lot he'd taken for granted. Being out on the move like this brought back bittersweet memories of all those years he'd traveled the countryside with Ed. They'd been so close and so united in their goals, and then... He shook his head, suddenly angry at himself for his foolish insecurities and the childish way he'd behaved when it came to his brother.

They could have mended this rift months ago, if only one of them had reached out. Al wanted to say that he had tried, but he knew that his efforts had been weak. He _could_ have tried harder, but that wasn't the way it was. Ed had always been the one to come looking for him when they'd gotten into fights, not the other way around.

Yet, even that was just an excuse. Sometimes Ed was stubborn. This wasn't something new. If only... But no. No 'if only's. What was done, was done; and what wasn't done... well, there was no turning back time.

Idly, Al scratched at his neck, then up to his ear. Immediately his fingers found one of the earrings he now wore. He touched the small, thin hoop with a bit of sadness. He was now married, but he couldn't be with his wife. And, because of his stubbornness, his brother, the only family he had left, hadn't been there to see it happen.

And now, after all of that, he was alone.

He frowned. No, not _alone_, not exactly in the literal sense of the word. He did have Russell, but it just wasn't the same; and, sometimes, Russell didn't _seem_ the same as he had in the past. Al couldn't quite put his finger on it, but every now and then, Russell felt off somehow. Had this been what had bothered Winry? Was this what she'd noticed about Russell that Al hadn't?

The sound of someone moving through the bushes caught his attention and Al glanced over in time to see Russell coming into the small area they'd chosen for their campsite, as if the very thought had summoned him. When Russell saw that Al was awake, he smiled and tossed over an apple.

"Found breakfast," Russell said jauntily. "Though, you should probably have been more on your toes." He raised an eyebrow. "What if I'd been a soldier?"

Al caught the apple deftly and sat up. "We haven't seen any soldiers yet," he said, wiping the apple on his shirt then taking a bite. That, at least, was one thing to be grateful for. Despite the hurried rush to leave Rizembool, no one seemed to have been sent after them. In fact, Al was starting to wonder if perhaps they'd overreacted.

"That doesn't mean there won't be," Russell said warningly. "We have to watch our backs. We could have soldiers from Rizembool following after us right now."

"We don't even know if the soldiers in Rizembool are aware that we had anything to do with... with what happened." Al said, vocalizing his thoughts. "We'll probably be fine for a while."

"Maybe," Russell said. "But we're heading for The People's Army, don't forget that. The closer we get to our destination, the more likely it is to be stopped by the military. There are soldiers on the look out for anyone joining up with them. I hear they're not very forgiving."

"Maybe," Al said slowly. "I still think we'll probably be okay."

Russell shrugged. "You could be right, but I'm just trying to be practical. If we do run into trouble, we have to be ready..." He trailed off and looked at Al more closely. "You going to use that technique of yours again? It could come in really handy."

Al licked the white meat of the apple slowly, tasting its sweetness, then lowered the fruit and shook his head. "I don't want anything to do with that again," he said. "It's just... it was just _wrong_. I felt like I was invading something I had no business invading. Like... like I was... raping his mind..."

Al rubbed at his eyes. How could he possibly explain this to Russell, or to anyone for that matter? The whole experience had been surreal. He still couldn't get a grasp on what had happened or how it had felt, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to explain it to someone else. Because, really? How could you explain what it felt like to literally be in more than one place at a time? It seemed impossible, yet it had happened.

"It's a powerful defense, though," Russell said.

"I don't like it," Al said, dropping his hand and looking at Russell. "Sometimes I close my eyes and I can see it again so clearly. I was there in that soldier's mind. I didn't belong there, and I think that if that man had had a more powerful... I don't know, maybe 'life force' is the best way to describe it, then I might have been the one who died instead of him."

"But you didn't," Russell said, almost congratulatory. "You triumphed. You had the stronger will and the advantage of surprise."

Al glared at Russell. "I don't want to kill people, and I most certainly don't want to kill them by taking over their body and mind."

Russell moved over and sat down beside Al. "I'm not saying that you'd have to do that," he said earnestly. "Just think about it. What if you could just... _stop_ them... for a while. Not _kill_ their minds, but maybe imprison them for a time? They'd still be alive mentally and physically."

"I don't know how that would be much better," Al muttered. "How would _you_ like to be a prisoner in your own mind?"

"Okay, sure I see what you're saying," Russell said dismissively. "But what if it were possible to construct, say, a temporary barrier in their minds? You could make it go away after a while, right? That would be perfect for trying to escape from someone. Or, if you have to take someone captive, you could make it last until you make it go away, right?"

"I... I don't know," Al said hesitantly, feeling a little pressured. "I mean, I've only done this once. I'm really not sure if I could do all of that..."

"But you never know until you try, right?" Russell said, sounding excited about the prospect.

"It's possible..." Al admitted grudgingly. "But it's not like I have anyone to experiment on. And what if something went wrong? That person's mind... their _soul_... could be destroyed forever. I don't know if I could risk it just for the sake of finding out."

"Just keep your gloves on," Russell said with a shrug. "You never know when we'll be attacked and then you can use that as practice."

"I just said I didn't want to experiment on anyone," Al said in annoyance.

"You can't be wishy-washy in life or death situations."

Scowling, Al pulled the gloves out of his pocket and looked down at them. He didn't like to think of what he could do with them. Putting a piece of his soul into an inanimate object was one thing, taking over the mind and body of a living human being was another.

"No, they're too uncomfortable to wear all the time," Al said, trying to give a different excuse. He didn't want to argue about this. "It's the middle of the summer and my hands get all hot and sweaty."

"Your brother never seemed to have a problem with it," Russell said with a smirk.

Al snorted and shook his head. "My brother complained about how uncomfortable it was all the time when he first started wearing them. He got better about it as he got older, but he still complained." And yet, despite all the complaining, Ed wore the gloves all the time. Being seen as 'normal' was more important than being comfortable.

"You know what you need?" Russell said. "You need to get those arrays tattooed on your hands. Some people have done that, you know. Then you'd always have it available without being uncomfortable."

Al rolled his eyes. He should have known Russell would be able to come up with a counter argument for that. "Eh... no. I've heard that tattooing anything on the palms of your hands hurts a lot. I'd rather not."

Russell rolled his eyes. "Are you always this much of a baby?"

"I'm not a baby," Al said, offended. "I just prefer to avoid pain when possible." He unconsciously brought a hand up to touch his ear, then stopped himself.

"Right. You're a baby," Russell mocked, then stood up. "We should get going."

Annoyed at the insult, but glad the subject about taking over people's minds and souls had been dropped for now, Al took another bite of the apple, then set it aside in favor of preparing to leave.

* * *

Ed rested his head on the desk and yawned widely. It had been three days since he'd started his new training, and he'd hardly gotten any sleep. When he'd said that he could read all of the back material in a week, Ed had completely forgotten that he had a job working at a fucking desk now and that he couldn't spend his days researching like he had in the past. As a result, he'd stayed awake almost all night on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and now he was feeling the strain. He'd have to sleep soon or he'd just collapse.

There was a knock on the door, and Ed sat up straight, stretched, then patted his face sharply to bring himself back to the land of the living and the awake.

"Come in," he said loudly. The door opened, and Vato Falman walked into the room.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked politely.

Ed nodded. "Shut the door and take a seat," he said, motioning toward the couches as he got up and walked toward them himself.

Jacobs had said something last night about making his subordinates his eyes and ears. Something about how Ed couldn't be in more than one place at once, and how loyal subordinates could act in that capacity. The trick, Jacobs had said, was to find subordinates who were actually loyal to you.

Ed knew that his subordinates had been loyal to Roy as their commanding officer and leader, but he wasn't so sure they were actually loyal to _him_. They liked him, he supposed, maybe even wanted to look out for him, but loyal? Probably not.

When they were seated Ed took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He'd been thinking about this all night, and didn't want to screw it up.

"Thank you for coming," Ed said, then paused. He'd wanted to sound polite, but was that too polite? Should he, as Falman's superior, be thanking him for doing something that he was doing only because Ed was his commanding officer?

He cleared his throat and continued, "I noticed you talking to Colonel Henry Douglass a few days ago. You seemed pretty friendly. I didn't know the two of you were so..." Ed scrambled mentally to find the words he wanted. "So well acquainted." Yes, that sounded good.

"We're not friends, if that's what you're implying," Falman said guardedly.

"No... I just..." Ed could feel sweat starting to prickle on his forehead. This was a lot harder than he'd imagined it would be. "As you probably already know, Douglass and I don't really get along." He paused again, mentally examining what he'd just said, and trying to decide what he should say next.

"It's not exactly a secret," Falman said, watching Ed closely.

"Breda seems to think he has it out for me," Ed said with a grin he hoped looked genuine, as if the idea was too ridiculous to consider.

"He does," Falman confirmed bluntly.

Ed hadn't expected Falman to be so blunt about it, but perhaps he should have, given Falman's tendency to be serious and literal at times. Slowly, Ed nodded. To hear it said outright like that was a little unnerving, but he supposed that this was a good sign. If Falman was Douglass's man, then he might have been less open about that, though that didn't really tell Ed whether or not Falman would be _his_ man.

"Is that what he said?" Ed asked, and wondered if he was being too blunt. Probably he was. Roy would have been much smoother, Ed was sure, but since this wasn't his strong point, he'd just have to do his best.

"Not... directly," Falman said slowly. "But he's watching you. He wants to catch you doing something wrong."

"I guess I haven't done a good job of making friends," Ed said wryly.

"No, you haven't."

"And he's shared all this information with you? I mean, isn't that kind of risky with you being my subordinate?"

Falman didn't say anything right away, but instead looked at Ed, considering. Ed shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable and hot under Falman's gaze. He felt a trickle of sweat slide down the back of his neck and hoped that his face wasn't as sweaty as the rest of his body felt.

Finally, Falman said, "Permission to speak freely?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Ed said.

"Are you testing me?"

"Huh?" Ed blinked in surprise, then forced his features into something that he hoped was a neutral expression. "Testing you?"

"I'm not working for Douglass," Falman said. "But he _thinks_ I sympathize with him, so he's been talking to me lately. I've been hoping he'd have some information on the colonel, but so far he hasn't said anything useful. He _has_ made it very clear, without implicitly saying so, that he plans to get rid of you in whatever way he can."

Ed let out a long breath, feeling grateful for Falman's upfront attitude, disappointment that there was still no word about Roy, and frustration at being a target.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you were working for Douglass," Ed said carefully.

There was another long pause, then Falman said, "You're horrible at this." Ed opened his mouth, then closed it again, feeling a little insulted even though the statement was true. "If you're trying to figure out if you can trust me, then the answer is 'yes'. You can. I'd have thought you'd already know that by now." There was a slight chiding note in Falman's tone, and Ed felt more heat rise to his cheeks, this time from embarrassment.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry," Ed said, feeling like an idiot now. "But I had to know."

Falman nodded, seeming to understand all that statement meant. "I think you have good intentions. I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

He seemed sincere, and his face held a little bit of concern, but there were no assertions there about Falman being loyal to him. He tried to figure out how Roy would go about trying to find out, but truthfully he had no idea and this whole 'trying to be stealthy' thing was giving him a headache. So Ed finally decided to just say what was on his mind.

"Can I trust you?" Ed asked point blank. "I need to know what's going on around me, and I need people who I can trust to tell me things." Ed knew he probably sounded exactly as inexperienced as he was, but it wasn't as if Falman had any illusions that he was some sort of seasoned officer.

Falman considered him silently and as the seconds ticked on Ed started to worry that perhaps he'd gone about this all wrong, but finally Falman said, "Can I trust you?"

"What do you mean?" Ed asked in confusion.

"Can I trust you not to run off and do something stupid with the information I give you?"

The question was a fair one, and Ed knew it. Truthfully, Ed wasn't sure. He was _trying_ to be more mature and take time to think things through, but he knew that he still often acted on impulse. And yet, Ed knew that if he didn't give Falman something to believe in, there was no way the man would trust him.

"I'm working on that," Ed finally said. "A lot." He watched Falman's face and instantly knew that it wasn't enough. But Ed couldn't get himself to lie. "I want to tell you that I won't be impulsive," Ed added. "I want to tell you that I'm going to be the most mature person you've ever met. But I'm not going to lie to you. I don't know what will happen in the future, and neither do you. I want to trust you, and I want you to trust me, but I can't make it happen."

Ed felt as though he'd just laid everything out on the table for the pickings, and was sure that Jacobs would probably have some sharp words about how he'd gone about this completely wrong, but he'd done the best he knew how.

Falman folded his arms and looked at Ed thoughtfully for several long minutes, then finally he nodded, as if satisfied by something.

"I'll keep you informed as long as you keep yourself together," Falman said. "I don't like putting myself at risk needlessly. I'm not a fighter like you, and I don't work with special operations out in the field like Havoc or even Hawkeye. I work with information and that can be just as dangerous as being out with the guns."

Ed nodded in understanding. Falman was letting him know that a careless action by Ed could get Falman killed. He was taking a risk by trusting Ed enough to give him information. Ed pressed his lips together in determination. He would show Falman that his trust wasn't misplaced. He'd show Breda, Havoc, and Hawkeye too. He'd show them all.

* * *

Bartholomew Kagegkuski didn't bother looking away from the map he was studying when there was a knock on one of the tent supports. The boy who was there as his errand boy would find out who was at the tent flap and what they wanted. If it was important, then the boy would interrupt him. There were murmurings outside, and only when the boy returned and stepped up to him did Bartholomew look up.

"Um..." the boy began, clearly uneasy. "The Ishballans are back."

Bartholomew frowned. He'd expected them to take longer. But no matter. Sooner was better than later in war time.

"Show them in," he said, standing up and pressing on his back to relieve the ache there. The boy pulled open the tent flap and the two elders from before stepped in. And then a third man stepped inside. This one was tall and had an X shaped scar on his face.

"And so I am privileged to meet the man the military calls 'Scar'," Bartholomew said politely. There was only a grunt in acknowledgement. So, a man of few words was this 'Scar'. Well that was fine with Bartholomew. As long as the Ishballans and Scar decided to join his cause, he wouldn't care if the man never uttered a single word in his presence.

Bartholomew looked Scar up and down, sizing him up. He was tall and heavily muscled, very much like Bartholomew himself. His face held the expression of a man who guarded his emotions and who expected more of the world than what it gave. This was the man who killed state alchemists out of righteous indignation. He did it on his own and without representation from his countrymen, but Bartholomew wanted Scar to work with him. He wanted to give the man a place in his army to fight against those who had destroyed his people.

There would be state alchemists who came against them—there already had been state alchemists in the battles they'd fought. Luckily, the military hadn't bothered to send their best, and Bartholomew's own alchemists had done a decent job of countering them, but eventually the military would begin sending their elite. Bartholomew needed better alchemists, and he needed someone like Scar who wanted to bring down the state alchemists.

Bartholomew glanced at the Ishballan elders. And he needed the Ishballan people behind the scenes, able to supply his army and be available to take care of the wounded. Hopefully this meeting would bring an alliance between his group and the Ishballans, and between himself and Scar.

* * *

As was his morning habit, Breda headed over to the corner newsstand near Central Headquarters. It never failed that he arrived right as the stand opened at the crack of dawn, and the owner—a gangly man in his late forties named Don—greeted him by name and they chatted idly for several minutes about sports, girls, and food, while he set up the stand.

"Well, now," Don said, picking up the first paper on the stack and looking at it. "This might be something that'll interest you."

Curious, Breda took it and scanned down the page until he saw... His eyes opened and he stared at it in disbelief. It was so random. So completely unexpected. Hurriedly, Breda dug a few bills out of his picket and thrust them into Don's hand before turning and rushing away. He was vaguely aware of Don calling after him about his change, but Breda didn't pay any attention. He had to let the others know. They had to talk. When had the military talked to the paper? Why hadn't anything else been said?

Hundreds of questions flew through Breda's mind and he was already trying to plan what they should do. Then one question came to him and he stopped dead. What about Ed? It wasn't a question about whether they should tell him or not. By mid-morning everyone who cared to know would know. The question was: What would Ed do when he found out? Could they trust him not to over react? Should he tell Ed first, in person?

He stood there, glancing around. Right now the streets and sidewalks were relatively empty. Most people were still asleep, including Ed. After another moment of internal debate, Breda changed directions and headed for the dorms. He'd tell Falman first, then together they'd go over to Havoc's place, then Hawkeye's. They needed to decide how to handle this as a group.

* * *

Ed yawned widely as he dropped the cigarette butt into the garbage and started toward the front entrance of Central Headquarters. He'd read late into the night until finally succumbing to his body's need for rest. Morning had come far too early, but he'd dragged himself out of bed anyway.

The classes taught by Jacobs were interesting, and even though they'd only just started this week, Ed was already grateful to the man for his before and after class tutoring sessions. Ed was, by far, much more intelligent than any of the other students in the class, despite being far younger. But in terms of strategic ability and aptitude, Ed was most likely at the bottom of the list.

In a way, it was great to really be challenged, but in another way it was frustrating. Ed had so much to catch up on, and he had a feeling that he might never be as naturally talented at strategy and leading men as his classmates. It didn't help that they all knew how he'd been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, and none of them were very thrilled about it.

Opening the door, Ed entered the building, waved lazily to the morning guards—who were ignoring him in favor of that morning's paper—and started up to his office. He wondered idly if he'd be able to catch a nap later this morning. Lieutenant Hawkeye seemed to have a sixth sense about when Ed was slacking off, and it never failed that she made an appearance to get him going again. Ed smiled to himself. It _was_ annoying, but at the same time he was grateful to have her there to help him and keep him on his toes.

As Ed neared his office, he noticed that none of his direct subordinates were around. It was odd... He usually met at least one of them in the morning. And then as he entered his office, he saw why. They were all sitting on the couches waiting for him. When he entered they all stood up and watched him.

"What...?" he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Have you read the paper this morning?" Breda asked.

"Uh... no," Ed said, starting toward his desk. He knew that Roy had read the paper every day to keep himself informed, but Ed had only managed it once every few days thus far because he'd been so busy. There was a glance between them all, and then their attention was back to him.

"We took the liberty of brining you a copy," Hawkeye said. "We would like to discuss it together once you've read it."

"Uh huh..." Ed said warily. Yes, the way they were acting was very weird. Moving the rest of the way to his desk, Ed picked up the paper and started scanning over the front page, not exactly sure what they wanted him to read.

And then he saw it.

Ed's eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest as he read the article quickly, then turned to another page for the rest of it. Little tingles were racing along his skin and his heart quickened as he read. Soon enough he came to the end and he looked up at them, feeling light headed and astonished.

"Pretty good news, eh?" Havoc said with a grin. They were all smiling now, though they seemed to be watching him carefully, as if unsure what he would do.

Ed looked back down at the paper, reading the short article again quickly, then tossed it on the desk and started for the door. Amazing. This was just _amazing_ and _unbelievable! _He had to go see this for himself.

"Chief! Wait!" he heard Havoc call behind him, but he was already gone; running through the halls now, eager to be out of the building and on his way toward the hospital. Whatever tiredness he'd been feeling before completely gone.

Alive!

Roy was alive!

* * *

I know it's been months since I updated this, and for that I apologize (I had a lot of job hunting to do and then starting a new job, plus the holidays... it got hectic). But here it is. I'm also having a bit of a dilemma. This story is a long story. Already it is long, but the outline of it... well, it is a long story. Thus far, I already have over 200,000 words. This is massive by itself, but knowing that the story is going to be even longer, I have been struggling with the idea of splitting the story up into a sequel or even a trilogy (yes, it's going to be that long), or into 2 or 3 arcs. However you want to call it, I think you catch my meaning.

I know not many people are reading this story anymore, and that's alright. I'm well aware that most people don't want to read huge novel length fanfics. But because I really love this story I plan to finish it no matter what. Anyway, so to the idea of splitting it. I very well may end up doing that. Mostly I'm giving you a heads up now, so that you can be prepared if I do that. Should that be the case, I will inform you of the name of the sequel at the end of the last chapter.

Thank you to all of you who have been reading. I hope you've enjoyed the story thus far, though I do apologize for some of the long spaces without updates.

--

**Comments are always appreciated.**


	48. Roy

**Descent**

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

**Roy**

After only two blocks, Ed passed a large group of soldiers that were set to be sent east to fight against the rebellion. He slowed his pace before stopping altogether and staring at them, but not really thinking about them or the war that they'd soon be fighting in. He was breathing heavily from his sudden and quick dash, and leaned back against a telephone pole to catch his breath. Despite the fact that his body was now at rest, his mind was still racing. Roy. Roy was alive. Roy was at the hospital. Roy. Roy. Roy. A part of him seemed to be screaming in protest at the delay, but his rational mind was starting to take part and it was telling him to slow down because he was going about this all wrong.

Ed studied the soldiers as they received their orders from a strong-looking woman. He was pretty sure she would have kicked any of their asses should any of them dare to breathe without her permission. She was probably a good leader... like Roy...

_Roy! Roy! Roy! Have to see Roy!_ his mind insisted, but Ed pushed the insistent voice away, if only for the moment, and glanced back at Central Headquarters, mentally kicking himself. He'd acted on pure impulse—pure, simple impulse. That wasn't something a good leader did. Good leaders didn't just run off like little kids whenever they wanted to. This was _not _the way to show how mature and trustworthy he could be.

_Fuck trustworthy! Fuck mature! Roy is ALIVE! ALIVE! DO YOU HEAR ME? _his mind was screaming. _You have to go to him. Now! Have to see him, have to touch him, have to be sure this is real!_

"Damnit," he growled, earning the reproachful look of a passing elderly woman. He muttered an apology and looked in the direction of the hospital. Roy was there. He was _alive_ and he was _there_... ten minutes away at the most... but... but, there were his subordinates to think about. He needed them. After he visited Roy, he'd still need them. He needed their trust, needed their help, and he couldn't have that if he wasn't responsible, if _they_ couldn't trust him.

Closing his eyes, Ed fought with himself, fought with the desperate voice inside of him that urged him on to the hospital, that cried out in protest at having this long awaited reunion postponed. He wanted to give in, but he couldn't. Roy would have to wait an extra hour while he made things right with his subordinates.

Turning back, Ed headed toward headquarters at a swift walk. This wasn't the hardest thing he'd ever done, but it was close, so very close. He _needed _to see Roy with his whole being, needed to see for himself that Roy was alive, that he was going to be okay. But he had to trust that if Roy really was in that hospital, then he wasn't going to disappear in an hour or two. He'd still be there when Ed could make it there.

And so, back through the military grounds he went, then through the large entry doors. He got some curious stares from the guards and from some others who had seen him run past not long before, but he ignored them. What they thought of him didn't matter. He wasn't here for them.

As he stepped up next to the closed door of his office, Ed tightened his ponytail, brushed at his uniform, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly as he opened the door and walked back into the office.

They were still there; and, as one collective group, they turned and looked at him with unreadable expressions. Clearing his throat in embarrassment, Ed closed the door behind him, then walked to his desk and sat down. He glanced down at the newspaper, knowing he'd need to say something, and also knowing that he was not one for smooth talking or elegant statements.

Looking up at them, he said, "Sorry." Ed paused, trying to come up with something a little more substantial. "I forgot myself. What did you want to talk about?" Ed wasn't sure if that was enough or not, but it would have to do.

They glanced at each other, then looked at Breda, who had started to take a bite of his doughnut. "What?" he asked, his mouth full.

"You're the one who brought this to our attention first," Hawkeye said. "You should be the one to lead." As the rest of them nodded in agreement, Breda scowled slightly, swallowed what was in his mouth, then pointed the half-eaten doughnut at Ed.

"That could'a been a stupid thing; running off like that," he said in disapproval.

"I know," Ed said, inwardly itching to snap back his excuses and reasons, but he kept his emotions in check. It was important that he remain calm and collected.

"What if that article had been'a fake?" Breda punctuated the sentence by taking another bite of the doughnut. Ed opened his mouth, ready to throw 'calm and collected' out the window and defend himself, then he closed it as he caught what Breda had said. Breda had said 'what if', as if he already knew that the article was genuine.

"How do you know it's not a fake?" Ed asked cautiously.

"I stopped at the hospital before coming here," Breda said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, then finished off the doughnut.

Ed leaned forward, eager now. The insistent voice prodding him from the back of his mind, needing to know if Roy was okay, needing to see him and touch him and...

"And how is he?" Ed asked more calmly than he felt.

Breda shrugged. "I didn't get to see him. He's on the secured floor. You know, the place Fuery was taken right after his accident?" Ed nodded slowly, not liking what he was hearing. If Roy was being kept under guard, then Ed would only be able to visit him if he was with someone who ranked higher than colonel.

"But he's alive for sure?" Ed asked, insistent now.

"As far as I could tell. That old, red-headed bitch, Tabitha Crenshaw, wouldn't tell me much, but I think it's safe to say that he's alive." Breda snatched another doughnut out of the box on the coffee table and sat back, obviously finished.

"I don't think the military would tell the press he was alive, if he wasn't," Havoc put in. "It would just make them look like dumb-assess." Ed smiled, knowing that Havoc was right. If military representatives had met with the press in such a straight-forward way, then it had to be true.

Ed glanced down at the paper, then back up again, and said quietly, "I want to see him."

Hawkeye gave him a sympathetic look. "We all would like to see him, but he's under guard, and the only people who can see him are superior officers and family."

Ed thought it over; trying to come up with strategies to break into Roy's room undetected, then sighed heavily. If he was caught, that wouldn't go over so well with his superiors or with his subordinates. All this being mature and sensible stuff sucked ass, and he'd say as much too if he didn't think it would cause problems for him.

"Do you think it would be a problem if I just went down to the hospital and asked around anyway?" Ed asked more calmly than he felt. He wanted to just tell them he was going down there and they couldn't stop him, but he thought this was the most polite way to get what he wanted without causing a problem.

"Depends," Havoc said. "If you go down there and cause a scene, and throw a fit because they won't let you in, then yeah, it's a problem."

Ed frowned in annoyance and watched as Hawkeye looked at him and whispered, "Jean..." Ed thought he'd been nice and polite. Would it kill Havoc to be the same?

Havoc returned her look. "What?" he asked defensively.

Hawkeye shook her head as if warning him off of something, then looked at Ed. "I doubt it will be a problem if you just go down there and talk with them, but don't expect that they'll let you in. They probably won't."

"And don't _break_ in," Breda put in.

"Or beat anyone up," Falman said from where he'd been watching the conversation without previous comment.

"Or blow anything up," Havoc grunted.

Ed smoothed out the annoyance he knew was on his face and muttered, "I'll... behave..." Or, at least, he'd try. If he had to break in, then he'd just be sure to do it in a way that they'd never find out. No big deal.

He looked at each of them, trying to gauge what was going on with them. He wasn't always the best at reading people, but he didn't want to leave until he was sure his earlier lapse of control had been forgiven. He needed them too much to lose them, especially on something that could have been avoided.

"Well?" Havoc asked irritably.

"Well what?" Ed responded.

"You going to go, or what?"

Ed stood. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm going," he said calmly, even as his mind yelled at him to get the hell out of that office to see Roy. He looked at them again, then added, "I'm... I'm sorry. I know I said it before, but I am. I didn't mean to just take off like that."

Hawkeye gave him a small smile. "You came back rather quickly. I think, under the circumstances, we can understand." Perhaps she could be that forgiving, maybe even Falman could be too. Unfortunately, Havoc looked anything but forgiving, and Breda looked as if he would let it slide, but wasn't too happy about it.

"Thanks," Ed said. There wasn't much more he could do now anyway. He'd apologized and they'd all talked. Whatever Havoc or Breda might think about him right now would have to be repaired more in the future, or perhaps time would take care of it. But Ed had done all he could and right now if he didn't get to that hospital, Ed was sure he'd explode.

And so, with that, Ed walked out of the room and down the hall. He didn't run this time, but kept a steady pace that took him out of Central Headquarters a lot slower than last time, but in a more mature manner. He resisted the urge to start running once he was out on the sidewalk, instead pulling out a cigarette and lighting up as he kept up the pretense that he was dignified in some way.

Several blocks and three cigarettes later, Ed found himself walking through the main hallway of the hospital's high-security wing. As he approached the desk, Ed instantly recognized the two women behind the counter. The first was the young, brunette woman he recognized from when Fuery had been in the hospital. Only at that time she'd worked on a less secured floor they'd moved him to later in his stay. Ed was a little embarrassed that he still didn't know her name. The second was an older woman with fiery-red hair, and what must have been three coatings of makeup on her face. Tabitha Crenshaw. Ed remembered her from the last time he'd been on this floor, but only knew her name from Breda today.

It was the younger woman who saw him first. She grinned at the sight of him. "Well, hello, stranger. It's been quite a while."

"Yeah, it has," Ed said, returning her smile. He liked her, and not just because she thought he was good looking. She was so nice and friendly. Hopefully he'd be able to get some information from her about Roy. "I didn't know you worked this floor."

"I transferred here a while ago. Better hours and pay."

Ed nodded, and tried to ignore the fact that the older woman was now looking at him suspiciously. She obviously didn't like him, but that was fine since he didn't really like her either. Better to just ignore her for now and try to get the younger one to talk.

"I'm actually here to see someone," he said, wanting to get down to business. The back of his mind was still screaming at him, telling him he had to find _some_ way to see Roy. No matter what it took, he had to make it happen. And he _would_ try. But Ed also didn't want to do anything reckless. He'd already said he wouldn't, had already worked to get his subordinates to trust him. He had to keep that trust, but restraining himself now that he was here felt like agony.

"Colonel Mustang?" she asked knowingly.

Just hearing Roy's name sent the voice in the back of his head into overdrive, and he felt himself starting to sweat uncomfortably under his uniform. He wanted to yell out, 'Yes, lady! Mustang! Colonel Roy fucking Mustang! I'm here to see him, so tell me where he is before I break into every damned room to find him!' But he held himself back with an effort and instead grinned and touched his cheeks and forehead.

"Is it written on my face?" he asked more casually than he felt. If he played this right, maybe she'd answer his questions; and maybe, just _maybe,_ he'd get her to let him see Roy.

She laughed in amusement and shook her head. "No, but I remember that you and he used to visit the same patient."

The older lady—Nurse Crenshaw—stepped up, eying Ed critically. "You're a lieutenant colonel," she said, stating the obvious.

"Yes," Ed confirmed. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, and I'd like to see Colonel Mustang, if I can." Then added a belated "ma'am" in an effort to try sweetening her up.

"You family?" she asked, though by her tone Ed suspected she already knew the answer.

"I..." he began, then trailed off. No... he wasn't technically family, but Roy was his lover... Ed swallowed, suddenly realizing that no matter where this relationship took them, they would never be considered 'family' by outside forces. Even if what they had could be known by everyone, legally they weren't anything. They were just two men living together in the same apartment who just happened to be sharing the same bed. Never mind that they had all the same feelings any two people of the opposite sex could have with each other.

"No..." he said quietly, feeling a wave of depression and disappointment wash over him. This wasn't going to work. Ed might have been able to get some information out of the younger girl, but this woman... there would be no getting past her.

"Only family and superior officers are allowed to visit patients on this floor," Crenshaw said bluntly with no hint of remorse that she had to turn him away. In fact, there seemed to be a twinge of satisfaction over the fact that, no matter his rank or how important he might be outside of this hospital wing, she could tell him to get lost and have the full backing of the military. The younger woman was looking at him with a bit of pity, but she said nothing. Ed almost wished she would, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference.

Ed clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, holding in the tirade of anger and frustration that was welled up inside of him. Roy was _here_! On this floor! And this _bitch_ was keeping them apart. He breathed in a slow, deep breath, then another. Causing a scene here would only backfire on him. He'd known there was a possibility they wouldn't let him in, that he wouldn't get to see Roy, but...

No.

No!

He'd find a way. He'd go outside, have a smoke, and think about how he was going to do this. There _had_ to be a way!

"Yeah... okay," he said dejectedly.

"If there's nothing else, you'll have to leave," Crenshaw said briskly.

"Yeah. Thanks," Ed muttered.

He was about to turn and leave, when the younger woman's eyes widened slightly as if she'd just remembered something. "What did you say your name was again?" she asked.

"Edward Elric."

"Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric?" she asked. Ed blinked in surprise, but nodded. The young woman turned to Crenshaw and said, "Don't we have that letter from that general from East City?"

The older woman frowned deeply, then began going through some papers before pulling a paper from an envelope and reading it over. She looked at Ed, then back at the letter, then back at Ed again.

"You know General Grumman?" she asked shortly.

Ed shook his head in confusion, not sure what this had to do with anything. "I've never met him, but I know Colonel Mustang worked under him for a time."

Crenshaw grunted, pulled out a sealed letter, and handed it to Ed without a word. He opened it, curious as to what it said, then read it over quickly.

_Lieutenant Colonel Elric,_

_I have written the hospital and given my express  
__permission for you to visit Colonel Mustang, as a  
__favor to my dear sister, whom I have heard you  
__have been most kind to._

_Grumman_

Ed read and reread the letter in disbelief. General Grumman's sister... Their landlady! Of course! He'd known that she was related to General Grumman, but it hadn't really been of any importance to him before, so he hadn't even thought about it until now. Ed grinned widely as he read the letter again. He'd have to do something extra special for that woman!

Taking a look at the page behind the short letter, Ed found a formal document with Grumman's permission neatly typed. He suspected it was a copy of the letter Nurse Tabitha Crenshaw held in her hand. He folded the letter and slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket, but kept the letter of permission out, then looked up at the nurse expectantly.

"Which room is Ro—Colonel Mustang's?" he asked, quickly covering his excitement induced slip. Crenshaw scowled, obviously displeased at having her strict rules circumvented.

"Picture ID first," she said briskly. After producing his identification, Crenshaw looked over it, scowled deeper, then took the letter of permission Ed held and read over it quickly before adding a note with her signature at the bottom. "He's in room 638," she grunted, then thrust the paper back at him. "Show this to the guards."

Ed wiped his hand—which was sweating and almost shaking with excitement—on his jacket, then took back the paper with a nod, glancing at the younger nurse who was smiling now. She winked at him, which made him smile more. He didn't think she knew about him and Roy, but he could tell that she was genuinely glad that this had worked out.

"Thanks," he said to her in a soft voice, then turned and started down the hall at a brisk walk. It was all he could do not to run, but he didn't want to cause a scene where anything out of the ordinary could be seen as suspicious. Anything suspicious might delay him seeing Roy; and, if that happened, Ed thought he might explode. So he walked as fast as his legs would take him, glancing at the numbers on the doors as he passed.

Time seemed to slow down when he wanted it to speed up. His feet weren't moving fast enough, the doors were going by too slowly, the air seemed stale and hard to breathe, even though he could feel it lightly moving against his skin as he rushed forward. And then, finally, Ed found the door he was looking for. As he approached, Ed slowed his step. There were two sets of guards at the door, and none of them looked particularly friendly. They all had the look of four strict men, very determined to do their job to the letter of the law.

One of them—a tall, well-built sergeant with dark skin and short cropped hair—stepped forward as it became clear that Ed was heading for them. The man looked Ed over quickly, and it seemed as if he was torn between reacting to Ed by his age or by his rank. Finally the sergeant stopped, saluted, then dropped his hand and said, "Sir, is there something my men and I can do for you?"

"I'm here to see Colonel Mustang," Ed said without preamble. His body temperature was rising in nervousness and excitement. This man was in his way, was delaying his reunion with Roy, and what he really wanted to do was tell the man to fuck off, but he reminded himself... protocol... be mature... act your rank, if not your age...

The sergeant's eyes flicked to the stars and stripes on Ed's shoulder, then looked back into Ed's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir. Unfortunately, I can't allow that."

Ed took in a deep breath through his nose, holding back the string of obscenities and instead holding out the letter. "General Grumman from Eastern Headquarters has given permission."

Taking the letter, the sergeant scanned it quickly, pressed his lips together, then looked back at Ed. "I'll have to confirm this, sir. Please wait here." Without waiting for an answer, the man walked quickly the way Ed had come. It was an effort not to clench his fists or grit his teeth in pure frustration. The signatures were right there! Even the bitch at the nurse's station had signed it! Why couldn't they just get the fuck out of his way?

He looked at the other guards, who quickly glanced away from him and stared straight ahead. Ed grunted and started to pace, no longer able to hold in all the energy pent up inside of him. He'd had enough of this being calm and mature shit. Roy was right beyond that door. After all this time, Ed would finally be able to see him and touch him... maybe even throttle him for causing him all this anguish! But here he was, stopped at the very end because of rules, regulations, and mother-fucking red tape.

Still, Ed couldn't fault the sergeant either. The man was doing his job. He was charged to protect Roy, and he was doing that to the best of his ability. There was a small part of Ed that did feel grateful, but it was outweighed at the moment by his annoyance.

"Sir?" Ed spun around to see that the sergeant had returned. "I have confirmed with General Grumman that this indeed came from him." The sergeant held the document out to Ed, which he took, folded, and slipped in his jacket with the other letter.

"I can go in now?" Ed asked, knowing he sounded annoyed and impatient, but not caring anymore.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said with a calm patience that grated on Ed's nerves.

Ed nodded and turned toward the door. Excitement was coursing through every vein in his body and he felt a slight tremor in his hand as he reached out and grasped the door handle. His heart beat quickly inside his chest and his stomach felt like butterflies were fluttering around inside, making him feel slightly nauseated. And then, with a quick breath, Ed opened the door and walked inside, shutting the door quickly behind him.

The room was dimly lit, and his eyes took a moment to adjust. Ed instantly focused on the bed; or, rather, the man in the bed. Roy laid there with eyes closed and a book lying open on his stomach. His hair was tousled the way Ed remembered it always being first thing in the morning. It was such an intimate detail that Ed smiled a little, and then a lump formed in his throat and his eyes burned, making him blink quickly.

Roy... it was _Roy_, and he was _alive!_ Gratitude and relief flooded over him, making him feel a little weak after the pent up feelings of excitement and anxiety. Ed swallowed, wanting to clear his throat, but also not wanting to wake Roy if he was asleep.

He needn't have worried about it because a moment later, without opening his eyes, Roy said, "Whoever you are, go away. I don't have anything to say." He sounded tired and a little weary, like someone who had been asked the same question over and over again by an obnoxious child. Yet, despite that, Ed felt elated to hear Roy's voice again. It had been so long...

Stepping forward, Ed couldn't keep a smile off his face as he said, "With all due respect, sir—I refuse." Instantly, Roy's eyes popped open and he glanced over in surprise and disbelief to where Ed was standing.

"Ed..." Roy whispered, almost as if he doubted what his eyes were telling him was true. His gaze moved over Ed's body hungrily, like a starving man or one left too long out in the desert only to be offered an oasis flowing over with pure water. Ed brought his hand up in a salute with a smile, then blinked again. This brought a small smile from Roy and he said, "I love it when you salute me."

"Pervert," Ed said fondly. Ed saluting Roy had been a little bit of a kink, something associated with foreplay, since Ed usually balked at the idea of saluting Roy seriously; but now the salute felt like something a little more personal and private, something that spoke volumes about how Ed felt. Roy looked over Ed again, his eyes resting on Ed's shoulders, then his smile faltered for just a moment before it came back.

"Come here," Roy commanded softly. Ed dropped his hand and instantly moved the rest of the way to the bed. Roy looked him over again, and this time Ed could detect a glint of worry in those dark eyes; worry, and something else that he couldn't quite make out. Ed began to lean down, eager to feel Roy's lips against his own, then stopped when Roy gave a slight shake of the head and glanced toward the door, then back at Ed with a meaningful look.

Ed understood instantly and stood up straight, resentful at being denied this most basic thing, but also knowing that Roy was right. Someone walking in at the wrong moment could be a disaster for them both.

"You're the last person I expected to see here," Roy said, not in displeasure and definitely curious. "They weren't allowing anyone to come see me, and have been keeping all outside information from me."

With a sigh, Ed pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. "We didn't even know you were here until today."

Roy nodded thoughtfully. "I've been here the whole time; at least, that I know of. They've been very secretive. Haven't let me make any phone calls, or leave the room at all. For a while I think they were debating on whether or not to just let me die, but it seems like they thought they'd be able to get more use out of me alive than dead. And by the time they realized I wasn't going to talk, too many people knew I was alive. Eventually something would leak out unless they forcibly silenced everyone. Apparently they thought that was too messy of a solution to cover up my death."

As Roy talked Ed felt a kernel of anger begin to develop inside of him. The military might have gone ahead and just let Roy die? He pressed his lips together, working hard not to interrupt, then finally said, "Who? Who was it that was keeping you here? Who would have let you die?" Ed could hear the fury in his tone, but it was hard to hold it back. There was a long moment where Roy silently studied Ed's face, then reached out and touched the stars and stripes on Ed's shoulder.

"Tell me about this," Roy said, obviously changing the subject. "Why are you a lieutenant colonel? Who promoted you?"

Ed narrowed his eyes angrily. Just like Roy! To change the subject when he didn't want to tell something. Well... two could play at that game... Ed reached up and took Roy's hand, holding it in his own for a moment, then squeezed it and set it back on the bed.

"The military just released news of you to the press today. Does that mean you'll be moved off this floor soon, or even be released to go home?" Roy gave Ed a look of annoyance, most likely at having his questioning parried by the same type of evasion, then sighed.

"Either is possible," he said vaguely. "What's been happening with my office and with the military while I've been cooped up in here? What news is there on the civil war in the east? Who's been filling in for me while I've been gone?"

Ed's anger flared and he felt blood rush to his face as he realized that the only thing they were doing was verbally evading each other. He very nearly bit out an angry retort just to put a stop to it, but instead he stood up, turned his back on Roy and folded his arms. He would _not_ be drawn into an argument. Not here. Not now. He was going to remain calm... calm... He closed his eyes, letting the worst of the anger pass, then turned to look at Roy—who looked as though he was steeling himself for an outburst from Ed.

"I was so worried about you," Ed finally said in a soft tone. He _would_ be calm. He _would_ keep his voice down. He was _not_ going to fight. Not here. Not now. Not after it had been so long since they'd seen each other. "You were gone and I didn't know if you were alive or dead. The last time we spoke before I went to Dublith... we fought. I don't want to fight now."

Roy frowned and studied Ed warily, then gave a wry smile. "I don't want to fight either. It just seems to come naturally to us, doesn't it?"

Ed sat back down. "I'm still annoyed that you're keeping things from me, but..." He thought about all the time that Roy had been gone and how much he'd missed him. All the things Ed had done wrong while trying to do right, and all that he'd learned from it. He also thought about what he'd learned from the strategy class he was currently taking and about what his teacher, Jacobs, had taught him so far.

"But I understand," Ed finally finished. "I don't like it, but I understand. Just..." He stopped, trying to decide the best way to say what he wanted to say, then said, "Just, remember that I'm not a kid anymore. You can't protect me. I'm an adult, and I'm a soldier, just like you. If I can do something, let me do it. Let me be part of the team."

Roy gave Ed a wary look, then glanced up at the ceiling silently for a time before saying, "I'm sorry I worried you."

That was all Ed was going to get, and he knew it, but at least he'd said what he'd wanted to say without starting a fight. Only time would tell if anything would change. Perhaps Roy was worried that Ed wasn't trustworthy enough, but Ed would show him that he'd changed, that he was still changing. He could be trusted. He'd just have to prove it.

"Yeah well... don't do it again," Ed muttered.

Roy smiled, then glanced over at Ed. "There is so much I want to say, so much I..." He trailed off and his eyes traveled longingly over Ed's body. "But there will be time for that later."

Ed nodded, understanding. There was so much he also wanted to say, and so much he wanted to do, but he could wait until Roy wasn't being watched so closely. At least he knew that Roy was alive, and that was enough for now.

"I need to rest," Roy said wearily, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them slowly to look back at Ed. His voice was strained and exhausted. There was also a note of regret there. "Will you come back again?"

"Yeah," Ed said softly. He hesitated before standing up. _I want you... I need you... I think I might even love you..._ Ed thought as he looked down at Roy. He wanted to say all those things, but who knew who might be listening. And so, instead of speaking, Ed gave Roy another salute, hoping that Roy might read some of his thoughts in that one small action. There was a small smile, then Roy brought his fingertips to his forehead for a brief moment, returning the gesture.

Dropping his hand, Ed turned on his heel and walked out of the room. He didn't acknowledge the guards as he left, nor did he look toward the nurses on his way out. His mind was too full of the far-too-brief meeting he'd had with Roy.

At first, all he could think about was touching Roy and being with him. He thought about when Roy would be released and they'd be able to be alone with each other to talk and touch freely, then his thoughts went over all the questions he should have asked about Roy's health. Where had Roy been shot? How well was he recovering? Was anything permanently damaged? And then, finally, his mind slowly turned to the actual conversation.

Someone in the military, perhaps a lot of someones, wanted Roy dead. Ed stopped as he reached the sidewalk and pulled out a cigarette. He lit up, took a drag, and exhaled slowly as he thought. He needed to find out who it was who wanted to kill Roy, needed to find out who had shot him in the first place, especially if it was someone in the military. Ed wasn't about to lose Roy again. He would protect Roy, even if the fucking bastard didn't want him to.

* * *

Roy stared at the door for a long time after Ed left. Their reunion hadn't been everything he'd dreamt about for most of the time he'd been shut up here. Of course, most of those dreams had involved both of them on the hospital bed, lips locked, cocks rubbing together, and noises of pleasurable moans—or any variety of those things—which were completely out of the question given the current situation. But on a realistic level it had at least been acceptable.

Ed didn't seem to be pissed off anymore about the fight they'd had before he'd left, which was a plus for Roy since a pissed off Ed could be troublesome and unreliable. And even though Ed seemed upset at still being kept in the dark, he _was_ taking it rather well.

_Almost too well,_ Roy thought, and closed his eyes, bringing up the memory of the Ed who had just visited him. Slightly taller, with hair pulled back into a high ponytail, and the rank of lieutenant colonel sitting on his shoulders, Ed looked physically different, but it wasn't just that. There was a maturity to Ed's eyes that hadn't quite been there before. He was learning and growing on an emotional and mental level. He even held himself a little differently; the way someone with authority would hold themselves.

And the way Ed had handled himself had also been different. Roy had seen the quick and expected anger play out over Ed's face, and he'd watched as Ed had forced himself to remain calm and collected. It had been a valiant effort, and while not perfect, it was commendable and much better than Ed would have done before.

Roy could feel himself starting to sink into the recesses of sleep. The pain medication left him constantly drowsy, but he struggled to stay awake as his mind was consumed by thoughts of Ed. So many differences, and yet the change in rank... that stuck out in Roy's mind with a sharpness that almost pained him.

There was no way Ed had earned the rank. He wasn't a leader of men. And the idea of Ed _buying_ his promotion was almost laughable—the same with it being given as a gift for some favor. Whatever had brought this about, Roy was sure Ed was in great danger. He needed to get out of this damned hospital and find out what was going on. He needed to protect his interests, his goals, his subordinates, and his lover. Roy felt urgency sink into him and grip him tightly for a moment before he finally let his body and mind relax, and lost himself to the blissful nothingness of sleep.

* * *

**A/N:**

I have to admit I'm very excited to get this chapter out. I have been waiting a long time (as have some of you!) for the moment when Roy and Ed would see each other again, and for when Roy would be reintroduced back into the story. I never meant for it to take quite so long before bringing him back, but really I just hadn't realized that it would take so many chapters to get through everything I wanted to get through before I brought him back.

But anyway, like I said, I'm excited to finally have this out to you. I have been extremely busy of late, but I do still continue to work on this story. I'd like to thank all of you for your patience and also those of you who have sent encouraging comments. I can't say when I'll update again, life keeps me head-spinningly busy right now, but there will be more to come in the future.

Thanks!


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